Promises and Plans
by Loupee
Summary: Historical AU. A tale of wartime love set in England during WW2 and of one couple's promises, plans and regrets. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**England, May 1944**

"I'm sorry, son, but that's a mistake I can't let you make. Look, you seem like a nice kid and I know you want to do right by this girl. But if you can't be sure that you're the only guy she's been with, then I tell you you're being a fool. There are plenty of girls out there who are looking for a free ticket out of here and will take the first sap they can find. You don't want to be him, stuck raising some other guy's child."

"But she's not like that…"

"I'm sure she's a real nice girl, but war time means we all make decisions we wouldn't otherwise. Nice girls end up with their heads turned by guys that promise them nylons, chocolate and the bright lights of Manhattan, only to find out later he's already got a wife back home. And nice guys like you find themselves doing things with girls that they thought they'd only be doing after they were married – am I right? If you can't be a hundred percent certain that the baby is yours, then do you really want to be with a girl who wasn't exactly faithful to you?"

"I… I don't know. I don't think it was like that. I love her."

"You're young, kid. You can expect to fall in and out of love at least another couple of times before you find the right girl. I suggest you wait the war out and get home before you plan on settling down."

And with that his superior shuffled some papers on his desk, signaling that the conversation was over.

Peeta closed the office door behind him. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Katniss. He couldn't marry until he turned 21 without his commanding officer's permission, and that was almost 2 years away. Who knew where he'd be by then, or thought the small voice of doubt in his mind, whether he'd even still be alive.

Why hadn't he just lied to Captain Abernathy when he'd asked him if he was completely certain it was his baby? Instead, he had said nothing, and his silence told the older man everything he needed to know. It wasn't the way Abernathy had described it though; Katniss had been honest with him. She had admitted that she had slept with Gale on his last leave. She hadn't begged for Peeta's forgiveness or said she regretted it. The way she had described it, it were as if it was something she felt it was her duty to do, that she owed it to Gale. They were engaged, and he had been patiently waiting for her, and now that his regiment was off to France he might not come back. She had felt guilty that she had strung him along, saying she wanted to wait until they were married, only to turn around and be with another man behind his back. She wanted Gale to have that experience_**,**_ to know that kind of intimacy, even if it was only once. And she had promised it would be only that once. When Gale came back, if he came back, she would break it off. But she couldn't do that to him now, not when he could be going off to his death, she couldn't take away his hope. And then she had promised that it was Peeta she was in love with. Even if it was against her better judgment, she had added with a wry smile. But she would understand if he didn't want to see her again, now that he knew. She wanted to tell him the truth, she could have lied to him, and part of him wished she had so they would not now be in this predicament. Peeta didn't like to think about her with Gale, but he thought he understood Katniss' reasoning behind her decision even if he didn't agree with it.

Peeta had left after she'd told him, said he needed to clear his head. He'd meant to go back to the base and stew on it until his next 24-hour pass, but instead he just walked up and down the country lane for about an hour and then came back. She had been about to scold him for banging on the door so loudly, _what was he trying to do wake the whole house?_ But he didn't give her the chance to finish her speech. Instead, he'd pulled her into his arms and they'd made love there in the front room on the parlor rug, clinging to each other afterwards as their chests rose and fell with relief and exhaustion.

Six weeks later he could not understand what had gone wrong; they had been so happy only for her to pull away from him. He had tried to ignore it at first, but there was clearly something the matter. She just wasn't telling him what. Fed up, he had confronted her. If it was over for her, he wanted her to come clean and let him know. He had demanded she tell him what was going on, reminding her that she had said she wanted to be honest with him, for there to be no lies between them. If that wasn't the case then why had she told him about Gale? He had expected her to tell him that it was over, that she didn't love him anymore. Peeta had not expected her to start crying. He had not expected her to tell him she was pregnant and he certainly had not expected her to tell him that she couldn't be sure if it was his or Gale's.

He'd told her right there and then that it didn't matter, he loved her and she loved him. He would marry her, she'd have his war wages to cover her and, God forbid, his war pension if something happened to him. He'd make sure she was taken care of. Typically, she had refused his help at first, until he pointed out that whilst people turned a blind eye to the comings and goings of soldiers and young girls during war time, an illegitimate child was still condemned whether in war or peace. And it wasn't just her reputation that was at risk - her sister would also be affected by association. She had agreed then. He had suddenly realised how happy he was that Katniss had agreed to marry him. He'd whooped with joy and picked her up and swung her round, until they were both dizzy and had collapsed in the long grass of the meadow. He had been worried then that his exuberant behavior had hurt her or the baby. She'd just rolled her eyes and pointed out that she wasn't quite that delicate.

Gazing down at her, he remembered thinking how beautiful she had looked. The sun feathering across her face as it broke through the tall blades of grass, her hair messily falling around her shoulders as she lay on his jacket. Their kisses had become more heated, his hands running up her long slim legs and her back arched from the grass as he pushed her underwear down. Her eyes never left his as she had unfastened his belt and trousers.

She had gasped his name as he filled her, and he had demanded she say it again. She had moaned it louder as his thrusts became harder, gripping handfuls of his shirt. He wanted her to tell him he was the only one she wanted. And she'd nodded fervently as she'd told him she loved him, that he was the only one, now, always.

Always, he'd repeated as he spilled within her as she collapsed from her own fulfillment beneath him.

He had not expected Abernathy to say no. He had not considered what they would do. There was nothing he could do - he was underage. Inadequately prepared to make his own decisions about marriage to a foreign national according to the US Army. Things would not be so desperate but for the fact he had been given orders that they were to ship out within the fortnight, heading for France. He had never been more scared about death than he was now. Before, when it had just been about him, he had accepted that his future was up to the fates, that there was little he could do but keep his head down and try to stay alive. But now he had Katniss and his child to depend on him. If they weren't married, he had no way of looking after them. He knew his mother would never accept any responsibility toward them if he were to die.

He would have to try to slip into town tomorrow to talk to Katniss about Abernathy's decision. Which left tonight, a long sleepless night, to think about how exactly he was going to break the news to her.

* * *

**NOTES**:

The US military actively discouraged servicemen from marrying, believing family responsibilities would be a distraction. The military imposed many restrictions on marriages between servicemen and foreign women, mostly in vain (as many as 100,000 war brides went to the US from the UK). Underage enlisted men (17-20) were required to seek their commanding officer's permission to marry. Even with permission, certain paper work had to be processed and there were instances of COs holding back paperwork to hold up and hopefully deter weddings. COs believed they were acting in the men's best interests, protecting them from rushing into or getting trapped in marriages they'd regret. It was not unknown for soldiers to be posted off to other bases to avoid taking responsibility for getting local girls pregnant. Unofficial estimates suggest that around 9,000 illegitimate children were born after the war as a result of relationships with serving GI's.


	2. Chapter 2

**England, October 1943**

Katniss crawled out of the bushes, extracting herself from the thorns that threatened to tear her trousers. On the way back from work, she had taken the short-cut across the fields, which gave her a chance to check on her traps, and had been rewarded with two nice, fat rabbits. One for the pot and one she would sell with ease in town. She was never short of customers looking to supplement their meat rations; Police Constable Darrington went one step further than turning a blind eye, he was one of her best customers. Captain Snow, head of the home guard, was a different matter, however. He was obviously disappointed that his war was turning out to be rather boring and so had made it his goal to catch her either in the act of poaching or selling her hauls red-handed. He did not see it as harmlessly helping people to supplement their rations, but rather that she was profiteering from selling on the illegal black market.

She sang to herself absent-mindedly, happy with her catch as she brushed the dirt from her trousers. She fell silent as she straightened up and met the most startlingly blue eyes she had ever seen, watching her with amusement. She automatically drew the arm that held the rabbits behind her back.

He was leaning on the bonnet of the truck, a map spread out in front of him. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he looked her up and down, before gazing expectantly behind her. She looked back over her shoulder and then back at him confused, unable to see what had drawn his interest. He still looked behind her, so she asked shortly, "Were you expecting someone?"

"No," he said with a laugh, "unless you are?"

She frowned. Why would she be expecting someone to come out of the bushes? Oh! She knew the surprise would have been evident on her face as she realised that he thought she had been in the there with someone. How dare he; not all the girls round here spread their legs so easily. She imagined that was what he was used to. Jo would be all over him like a rash she thought, just up her alley - blond, handsome, and even better, American. Jo had been complaining just that morning how she wanted to get her hands on a new pair of nylons and a decent pack of ciggies. Well, not all the girls around here were so easily swayed by a Yank's charms; some of them, including herself, hadn't forgotten they had men fighting for them overseas.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm on my own," she said curtly.

Stepping away from the vehicle he grinned, "Believe me, that does not disappoint me at all."

She scowled at him. She didn't know what he was after but whatever it was he didn't need to lay it on so thick. She knew full well she looked a fright. Her slacks were dirty, her rolled-up shirt-sleeves exposed arms that were grubby from working in the fields, and a scarf was tied around her head to keep her unruly hair out of the way. She probably couldn't look much worse so there was no point in him attempting any smiles and flattery; she knew he could not possibly be interested in her like that. She imagined "Mr. Hollywood smile" here was used to English girls swooning at his feet.

It was no secret that the American soldiers did very well with the local girls. At a time when there was a shortage of eligible men, to suddenly have an influx of GI's in the area was a single girl's dream. They tended to be so much more relaxed than the boys they had grown up with; their accents and their slang were an exciting novelty, and of course there was the fact that they had so much more money available to treat a girl. The average GI earned nearly four times as much as their counterparts in the British army. That fact alone was enough to cause some resentment from parts of the British population - and it was no different in the small market town that now found itself next to a large US army base.

"Did you want something?" she asked. He looked her up and down again with the same smile. It made her feel slightly uncomfortable; she was ashamed to admit that a part of her liked the way he looked at her. It made her feel as if she _could_ be desirable - Rita Hayworth in a dress that clung in all the right places, rather than a dirt-encrusted land girl in a pair of muddy boots.

"I sure do," he said, and she hoped that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. He continued, "I'm hoping you can tell me how to get back to the base. I swear I'm driving around in circles and I haven't passed a signpost for miles."

"There aren't any. They've all been taken down."

He raised his eyebrows in amused disbelief, "Because?"

"In case the Germans invade," she said.

"And what are the English hoping to achieve with that?"

"That they get lost and end up driving around in circles?" she suggested sarcastically.

He laughed. "Well, I guess the plan's working. So, can you tell me how to get there?"

"Sorry, I can't do that."

He gave her another bemused look.

"You could be a German," she explained.

"Really?" he asked, gesturing at his uniform and person.

"You could be in disguise," she shrugged with an affected air of indifference.

"Seriously, you're not even going to tell me whether I'm headed in the right direction?"

But she didn't have time to answer before a car rounded the corner. She swore as she recognised it and its driver at once.

She saw the GI stare at her, surprised by her language, but she didn't have time to think about that. The car had stopped and Snow had gotten out.

"Miss Everdeen, what a pleasure to see you," he said with a smile that made her stomach churn as he walked towards them. She realised too late that she had dropped her arms to her sides during her exchange with the soldier. The dead weight of the rabbits hung heavy in her hand. She could not hide them now without drawing attention to them; besides, she was sure Snow had probably spotted them before he even got out of the car.

"Why Katniss, what do you have there?" He nodded to the animals she held by their ears. "I do hope you weren't attempting to sell those to your American friend here."

"On the contrary, I was offering them to her." Katniss stared at the soldier with wide eyes, trying hard to keep her face impassive. What was he doing? "Peeta Mellark, sir," he said by way of introduction as he extended his hand to Captain Snow, who shook it reluctantly. Peeta continued, **"**I'm afraid I ran into them, the poor things didn't stand a chance. I was just trying to persuade Miss Everdeen to take them, since it would seem a shame to waste them. Isn't that right, Katniss?"

Her mind went completely blank. The only thing she could think of was the way her name sounded when he said it. She was snapped from her thoughts by the touch of his hand on hers - she stared at down at it. Such an alien sight, but at the same time it felt so familiar. She looked up at him and saw his eyes, those blue eyes, willing her to confirm his story.

"Yes, that's right. A shame to waste them, when they'd taste wonderful in a pie," she managed to say.

Snow looked unconvinced, but there wasn't much he could do, except call the stranger out as a liar.

"Well," he said, "I'll let you get on your way. I'm sure you're very busy. Katniss, my dear, you're quite a way from home, why don't you let me give you a ride?"

She gave a slight shudder; the thought of having to be trapped alone with Snow in his car made her flesh crawl.

"That's okay, I was just going to give Miss Everdeen a lift home. I have to pass that way."

She saw the doubt on Captain Snow's face, the army base was after all in the opposite direction from her home, but he had no choice but to accept the soldier's word. "Well, in that case, I'll be on my way. Good day to you both. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon, Katniss."

She did not relax until the car had rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

"A friend of yours?" the soldier asked.

"Captain Snow? No, not exactly."

She watched him fold up the map and then rather than open the driver's door, he walked round to the passenger side and held it open for her.

"What are you doing?"

"I said I'd give you a lift home didn't I?"

"Yes, but that was just for Snow."

"No buts. I said I'd give you a lift and that's what I'm doing. Besides," he said, tossing the map to her as she reluctantly climbed in. "I'm hoping you might be able to show me exactly where we are on this map so I can get home."

**...~...**

**England, December 1943**

Peeta had been to every damn dance in town, every stupid fundraiser that was hosted, hoping to see Katniss again. But it had been nearly two months and he hadn't seen her at a single event. She had not let him give her a lift home that day, instead directing him down the country lanes until they reached a crossroads. She had hopped out and, pointing straight ahead, had told him to keep driving until he met the main road, then a right and keep going until he found the base. He had tried to argue that he couldn't just drop her off in the middle of nowhere. She had just laughed and said it was okay, she knew all the short-cuts and all the right hedges to crawl through. And that was exactly what she'd done; he had watched as she crossed the road and disappeared between two trees into the woods. He had stared for too long to jump out and follow - Katniss had been long gone by then. So there was nothing left to do but follow her directions back to base. He was in serious trouble for getting back so late, but he hadn't cared; no discipline was able to dampen his buoyed spirits after having met her.

He felt extremely guilty for letting his mind wander off to her again when he was supposed to be reading a letter from Delly, but she had mentioned a fundraiser she had been to back home and it had just got him thinking. He knew his behavior and his thoughts recently were disrespectful to Delly. She did not deserve to have him pining over some mystery girl. Delly and he had been together since her sixteenth birthday, and friends for a long time before. Getting engaged had seemed the natural next step just before he was shipped overseas.

He slipped her picture out of his breast pocket. There was no question that Delly was beautiful. Naturally blond, a gorgeous smile, and curves in all the right places. So why did his mind keep wandering to a short, skinny, little thing, dark scraps of hair escaping from her headscarf and mud smeared on her cheek? Katniss was obviously trouble - the Home Guard definitely had his eye on her, some kind of poacher by the looks of it. But he just couldn't shake the images of her.

He looked up as Finn came into the barracks and flopped down on the bunk opposite.

"Letter from home?" he enquired, lighting a cigarette. Peeta nodded. Finn sat up and leant over to pick up the photo of Delly from the bed. He gave an exaggerated wolf-whistle. "Is this her, this your girl?"

It was only when Peeta nearly said no as the image of Katniss flashed in his mind again that he realized he had it worse than he thought.

* * *

**NOTES:**

Buying and selling on the black market was of course illegal with possible penalties for those caught profiteering of up to £500 or 2 years in prison. However due to the shortage of goods due to rationing, black markets were extremely common place and some authorities even turned a blind eye.

**Home Guard** (aka Local Defence Volunteers) was a defence organisation of local volunteers otherwise ineligible for military service, usually owing to age, leading to the nickname "Dad's Army". They acted as a secondary defence force in case of invasion. They guarded the coastal areas of Britain and other important places such as airfields, factories and explosives stores. Its unlikely that the Home Guard would have got involved in trying to catch poachers and black marketeers but then Snow is just really mean!

**Women's Land Army (WLA)** was a British civilian organisation that placed women with farms that needed workers, replacing the men who had been called up to the military. Women who worked for the WLA were commonly known as Land Girls.


	3. Chapter 3

**England, New Year's Eve, 1943**

"Hold still will you, how d'you expect me to do this if you keep moving?"

"I feel stupid, people are going to know they're not real stockings."

"Of course they will, where are you going to get a real pair of nylons from? But no one will care. Now hold still or I'll never get a straight line."

Katniss looked over her shoulder at the reflection in the mirror and watched as Jo drew on a line in eyeliner up the back of her leg to the hem of her knickers, imitating the seam of a pair of stockings.

"I don't see why I have to go anyway."

"Because you never go out and Annie needs cheering up."

"Hmmm?" Annie looked up on hearing her name, having been a million miles away leaning out the window. She flicked her cigarette butt away before coming to join them. Katniss looked at Annie - she looked tired, it had been almost two years since her fiancée's plane had been shot down over Germany, and Jo had decided that it was time she joined the living again. Annie gave a sweet smile as Katniss slipped her dress on. "You look really lovely, Katniss."

"Yeah, she scrubs up well doesn't she?" said Jo. "Who would have known there was a beautiful woman under all that mud?"

Katniss rolled her eyes. Jo could hardly comment about mud - as land girls they had taken over the men's jobs on the farm. It was dirty work, especially as it did not seem to have stopped raining for the last month. Katniss had felt like she had been walking around covered in a semi-permanent layer of mud. The water ration didn't exactly allow for a warm bath every night. But tonight the girls had made a real effort, nails painted, make-up done, hair curled, and even seamlines drawn. Jo was adamant that they were all going to have a good time.

Katniss linked arms with Annie as they entered the church hall, which had been transformed into a dancehall for the evening. Somebody had taken the time to hang decorations from every available surface and a live band was playing on the stage. The night was being hosted by the US Army, a thank you for the support they received from the local community. Which wasn't such a joke as it was at the beginning. The local community had been less than welcoming in the early days. There were too many sons and husbands fighting overseas to welcome a bunch of foreign soldiers with open arms, especially when they were seen to be taking their women, too. 'Overpaid, oversexed and over here,' that was the popular phrase to describe the influx of GIs to England. Katniss knew Gale resented them. But in time people had warmed to them, local businesses certainly appreciated their income, and the girls saw them as a breath of fresh air. The GIs seemed so much more glamorous, with accents that the girls associated with the movie stars they saw at the cinema; and in a time when men were a shortage it was a welcome change to suddenly have a choice of dance partners.

Katniss saw Annie nervously look away from a group of soldiers who were smiling at them. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, we can go home right now," Katniss reassured her.

Annie shook her head, "It's alright. Let Jo think she's got me out of my doldrums. Let her have this victory. She's right anyway. It is time to stop living in the past with the ghosts. Phillip is dead but I'm not. I don't expect to ever fall in love again, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't have fun. We need to start living, Katniss. It can all be snuffed out in a second, so we need to grab what joy we can, whilst we can, with no regrets."

Katniss was surprised by her friend's speech but did not ask what had brought about her change of heart. Annie just gave her a small smile and squeezed her arm, "Why don't you get us both a drink, I'm just going to go powder my nose."

Katniss headed over to the refreshments table and got them both a glass of punch before she searched the throng for Jo. She spotted her, not surprisingly, amidst a crowd of soldiers. On catching her eye Jo called out to her, hailing her over.

"This is Katniss," she announced as she reached the group. "Hello Katniss," said the tall, bronzed man leaning against the wall next to Jo as he extended his hand to her. "This is Finn O'Dair," Jo said. She ran through a few other introductions of names Katniss couldn't be bothered to remember. "Oh, and this is Peeta Mellark," said Finn as a blond man joined the group. She stared in disbelief as Peeta nodded at her. "Actually, Katniss and I have already met."

Jo gave her a _really_ expression before turning back to Peeta. "How do you know Katniss? Or should I say, how well do you know Katniss?"

Katniss noticed that Peeta's cheeks turned as pink as hers felt, but he continued as if he wasn't affected at all. Recounting how he had first met her crawling out of a hedge like some wild animal carrying a couple of dead carcasses with her, before explaining the dead rabbits and their encounter with Snow.

"God, that was a close call," Jo exclaimed before explaining to their new friends that Snow was trying his hardest to catch Katniss. "Katniss is a bit of a huntress, keeping the village going with a bit of fresh meat. We'd all be dead on our feet on our rations working on the farm like we do otherwise."

The band picked up just as Annie joined them. "Who wants to dance?" Jo asked, before being whisked off to the dance floor by a tall guy with dark hair. Finn extended a hand to Annie, who to Katniss' surprise agreed. The man to Katniss' left had just started to ask her if she would like to dance when Peeta took her hand and led her on to the dance floor, leaving the other man hanging in mid-sentence.

"That wasn't very polite," she scolded with feigned severity, looking back to where the other soldier stood watching them. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Believe me. She made sure she drummed them into us. Did you want to dance with him?" he said, motioning back to where the other soldier stood.

She shook her head.

"Good."

After that Peeta didn't let go of her all evening; she danced every dance with him. They talked about what it was like for her to grow up in the small town, he told her about his home, which didn't sound an awful lot bigger, the food he missed, his dad's bread in their family bakery, and finally, bemoaned the lack of any good coffee in this country. She liked listening to him talk - the relaxed easy drawl to his accent, the way his eyes creased when he laughed. And he laughed a lot. Katniss could not remember a time when she had laughed so much with Gale, even before the war. There was always such an intensity within Gale, as an active member of the Labour Party there always seemed to be an important social cause to be fought, such as supporting his fellow workers' rights in their demand for a fair and decent wage.

As the music stepped up a tempo she commented, "It's terribly unpatriotic but I have to confess I prefer the Andrews Sisters to Vera Lynn."

"Dreary Lynn, she doesn't seem like she'd be a lot of fun, does she?"

"Peeta!" she exclaimed in mock horror. "You do realise that's the nation's sweetheart you've just disparaged!"

He laughed, but stopped abruptly as he noticed the change in her mood. She saw him watching her expectantly as she asked, "Do you have a sweetheart, back home?" He nodded. "A wife?"

"No. Delly and I, we got engaged before I was shipped overseas."

She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. Why did that affect her so much? She didn't know Peeta. He was just a dance partner for one night.

"And you? Do you have someone?" He lifted her hands between them as he asked, his thumb rubbing over the thin band with a small stone setting that occupied her ring finger.

"Gale and I got engaged just before he enlisted." He nodded in understanding and she couldn't bear it. Tearing her hands from his she ran out of the hall and the blast of cold air stung her eyes where tears had already formed.

"Katniss!" He caught up with her at the back of the building. She was surprised, she honestly hadn't expected him to follow her.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to upset you, just come back inside. It's cold out here. I know you must miss Gale and you wish it were him here instead."

"No," she said. "I feel horrible…I'm a horrible person, because… because I'm glad he's not here tonight."

He captured her first with the intensity of his gaze, and then Peeta's lips were on hers as he kissed her. She kissed him back and it felt so right. She thought about what Annie had said about taking every opportunity to live and she knew she didn't want to worry about anything but just living in this moment and how it felt to be with Peeta.

Her arms wound around him as his hand ran up her thigh, slipping beneath the hem of her skirt as they continued to travel upwards. He broke apart with a smirk on his face, and she felt his hand move over her thigh as if looking for something.

"Those have got to be the craziest stockings," he laughed. "I just don't seem to be able to find the top."

She felt her cheeks glow as she admitted, "Jo drew them on earlier. I told her people would be able to tell."

"I wasn't sure on the dance floor, except when you spun around once and your skirt lifted. I couldn't see the tops. I never thought I would be lucky enough to get the chance to find out if they were real or not." His candid confession made her smile, despite her sheepishness.

He kissed her again then, and she could feel the heat of his strong hands through the silk of her underwear as they grasped her firmly, pulling her to him. Their kisses grew deeper, and she could feel him grow hard against her.

She pushed him away, and saw the confusion and disappointment in his face as she regained her breath.

"Not here, not like this," she said, and before he could respond another couple rounded the corner, the girl drunk and giggling as her partner tried to light her cigarette for her.

"Let's get back," said Peeta taking her hand, and they returned to the hall.

"There you are," said Jo as they rejoined the group. "What have you two been doing?" She gave them a suggestive look.

"Nothing," Katniss snapped and instantly regretted that she sounded too defensive.

"Really?" Jo looked down at Katniss and Peeta's shoes which were both splattered with mud from outside. "Whatever you say."

"Actually, I think I'm going to go home." Katniss said.

Jo shrugged her shoulders, "Annie and I are going to stay a while longer, we'll see you on Monday then."

Katniss looked over Jo's shoulder to where Annie sat, the girl was almost unrecognizable. She was in animated conversation with Finn, and at that moment she tossed her head back, her face splitting with laughter. Annie looked absolutely glorious, like the girl she used to be before Phillip died. Finn looked at her with admiration and Katniss noticed he was holding Annie's hand.

Peeta grabbed their coats from the coat check, and met her at the door.

"How are you going to get home? I got the impression the other day that you lived miles away."

"No," she laughed "I just live in the opposite direction from the one you were going in. I live on the other side of town."

They walked thought the darkened streets, with only the light of the moon to guide them. The blackout restrictions meant no streetlights were illuminated and the blackout curtains in the houses allowed no light to escape.

When they reached the small, white cottage she retrieved the key from under the flowerpot next to the front door and unlocked it.

She turned to see Peeta still standing in the doorway, not moving. "Are you going to come in?" she asked.

"I… sure, if that's okay. What about your parents?"

"My mother works night shifts at the district hospital, she practically lives there these days, and I arranged for my sister to stay with friends tonight so that I could go to the dance."

She didn't know whether it was a good thing or not that he looked as nervous as she felt.

Katniss headed for the kitchen, expecting him to follow her, but when she turned she realised that he must have lingered in the hallway and she thought of the photos that lined the walls there. Family portraits, herself and Primrose, her mother and father on their wedding day. She was grateful that the photos of Gale and his brother in their uniforms were on the mantle in the sitting room.

She stared at the running water as she filled the kettle, the confidence that she had felt at the dance hall spurred on by Annie's words seeming to ebb away. Yes, she liked Peeta, and she had definitely liked the way he made her feel when he kissed her, but still, he was a stranger. Katniss had never considered doing anything like this before, but when she had invited Peeta in she had not stopped to question her decision. Ithad seemed so clear_,_ not having wanted the evening with him to end, but now alone in the kitchen she no longer felt so bold.

When she turned she saw he stood in the doorway watching her. "Do you want a cup of tea?" she asked tentatively.

"Not really," he said, taking the kettle from her hand and setting it down on the table. "I should probably go," he added but made no move to leave and Katniss made no attempt to encourage him. She knew that despite her doubts she did not want him to go. He took a step toward her, closing the gap between them. He slowly put his hands to her shoulders, as if he were waiting for her to stop him, before he touched his lips to hers lightly. Her hands came up to rest on his back as she returned his kiss. She felt his weight push her back against the kitchen counter as the intensity of their kiss grew. With each kiss, her uncertainty faded a little more, until no doubt remained - she wanted this, and she wanted this with Peeta.

She took his hand and wordlessly led him to the bedroom and the double bed she normally shared with her sister.

There was no question in her mind that they both wanted this, but there was still an awkward silence as they undressed, until she stood before him in her silk camisole and French knickers, he in just his shorts. She shivered, and he pulled her into his arms and then down onto the bed. Her nerves melted against his warmth as he covered her body with his. But it still took all her courage to get her words out and admit her inexperience to him. "I…I've never…you'll have to show me how."

He smiled and swallowed nervously, "I've never done this before either, but I think we can figure it out together." And then a little less confidently he added, "Just…just let me know if you want me to stop."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down to kiss her. His hands slid over the silk of her camisole and she arched into his hands. She heard him moan slightly as he bent to kiss the crook of her neck, then moving across her body he placed kisses to her, the delicious heat of his mouth on her breast easily felt through the thin material of her camisole.

With her hands in his hair she pulled his mouth back up to meet hers, whilst his hands moved the silky material up and she raised herself from the bed so he could slip her top off.

She felt embarrassed under his gaze and her arms instinctively moved to wrap across her chest, but he caught her wrists before she succeeded. "Please don't, you're so beautiful."

She knew she wasn't, she was too skinny and boy-like in figure to fill out her clothes properly, and here, naked, she wondered what she must look like. But his voice as he spoke almost had her convinced that she was beautiful.

He lowered his head to lavish attention to her breast again. She found herself gasping his name as his tongue circled her nipple, his open kisses sucking on the hardened peak before he teasingly caught it between his teeth. When his mouth returned to hers, he kissed her hungrily. His hands found the waist of her French knickers and she lifted her hips to allow him to push them down, before she kicked them off. If she were naked then she wanted him to be, too. She tugged at his shorts, demanding that he take them off.

She saw the smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he obeyed. She could feel him hot and hard against her inner thigh as she kissed the smile from his lips. Her hand found him and she wrapped her fist around his length. He gasped, his eyes widening, and he pulled back from their kiss as she started to move her hand over him. Whilst she and Gale had not had sex, they had still taken pleasure in each other's bodies. She knew how to touch a man like this, so she was surprised when Peeta's hand stilled hers with a shake of his head. She felt a wash of rejection before he kissed her frown. "I won't be able to last long enough if you do that, it feels too good."

His hand was not so sure as it moved between her thighs. She felt his fingers slip against her where she was already wet for him. Taking his hand she directed him to the hard bud that lay there and showed him how to touch her. It made her doubt whether he had done this with Delly before, but Peeta did not need much instruction before he had her breathlessly moaning and arching beneath his touch.

"Peeta," she gasped "I want…I want you." She was shocked by the desperation in her own voice.

He moaned her name as he entered her. He stilled as her hands clung to his back. She had not expected such a feeling of fullness and she found it an uncomfortable sensation. He pulled out slightly, his eyes questioning if this was okay, and she nodded before he pushed back into her**.**

He started slow and gentle, allowing her body to get used to the feeling of him moving inside her. She shifted her body slightly and the change in sensation made her breath catch in her throat. His thrusts rubbed against her in just the right place. Her hands found the taut muscles of his buttocks and she felt them tensing beneath her palms as he moved. She moaned as his rhythm increased, his thrusts becoming deeper, and she watched the expression of exquisite agony on his face as he let out a final moan.

She hugged the weight of his body to her, never wanting to let go, but he rolled to the side. She felt lost until he pulled her to him, kissing her forehead.

He looked apologetic and for a moment she thought he was going to regret what they had just done, but instead he said, "I'm sorry, you didn't …um…finish, did you?"

"It's okay, next time," she said, not considering the presumptive implication of her words.

"Next time," he repeated, and she saw the smile that spread over his face at the thought.

She grinned against his chest as he kissed her hair and, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of his chest, she fell asleep in his arms.

**England, January 1944**

When Katniss had woken on New Year's morning, it had been to any empty bed. Her mind, however, had been put at ease, relieved to know he had not thought them a mistake, when she found his note on the pillow beside her.

_Katniss_

_I wont be able to stop thinking about you until I see you again._

_I have a pass for 24 hour leave in two weeks time. I really want to spend it with you and only hope that you want to see me again as much as I do you._

_Until next time,_

_Peeta_

Grinning, she had to reread the note three times before she had hid it in her bedside drawer. She was surprised at how candid his note had been. Not being able to stop thinking about her, hoping she wanted to see him again. Gale would not have said such things. Of course, in his letters he said he missed her and was looking forward to coming home, but he never thought he had to do or say things to make her want him, he just presumed that of course she would. She had never considered before that he took her love for him for granted.

She had stopped herself then. She had no right to compare Gale to Peeta. It wasn't fair - Gale loved her and Peeta, well he had a fiancée of his own at home. Someone who loved him and was waiting patiently for him. But no matter what, she could not think that last night had been a mistake. She kept thinking about what Annie had said, life was so short and it could be taken away at any time. Now more than ever they had to live for today - there was no point pinning hopes on tomorrows that may never come.

Two weeks had passed since the night of the dance and she had only seen Peeta once since. He, Finn and a group of other soldiers had passed the farm. They had stopped the truck and jumped out. Peeta had explained that they were on a simple drive back from training and Finn had pretended to get lost so that he could drive past there and see Annie.

Katniss had made sure to keep a little distance between them as they had stood talking against the fence, their fingers barely touching where their hands rested on the wooden post. But his face had lit up like he'd won the jackpot when she had said she was looking forward to seeing him the next Saturday. His hand had moved a little closer, his fingertips lightly stroking the side of her hand. She was certain he was about to take her hand in his when she had heard the whoops of the other men. She had pulled her hand away immediately, but the wolf-whistles and catcalls were not for them. She saw what had caught the soldiers' attention -Finn was kissing Annie. Katniss felt herself blush for her friend, but although she looked a little embarrassed, Annie also wore a shy smile that said she wasn't too upset at having been caught.

Katniss had been undeniably jealous of Annie, but she could not take the risk in front of everyone. The owners of the farm knew Gale and she was not proud of what she was doing behind his back. But it did not stop her wishing that it were her and Peeta, not Annie and Finn, that were free to openly kiss.

But now it was just a matter of hours until their rendezvous, and whatever guilt she felt about cheating on Gale was hugely outweighed by the buzz of anticipation from the thought of seeing Peeta again.

…**~…**

The nervous excitement he had felt over the last two weeks was ridiculous. Peeta didn't know why he was getting so worked up, it was just a date with some girl he'd met a couple of times. Only it wasn't just some date, it was his first real date ever. Delly was the only girl he had ever dated, and they had known each other since they were kids. They had just slipped straight from friendship into dating; he couldn't remember ever feeling anxious about messing up on a first date.

And Katniss was so much more than just some girl. She was the girl he'd been thinking about since the first day he'd met her. He was pretty sure he'd been hooked from the second he'd heard her singing, and when she'd looked up, well, then he had known he was a goner.

He had only seen Katniss once since the night of the dance and then they'd been able to do little but hold hands, but she had said she'd wanted to see him again. When Peeta had offered to pick her up from her house, she had suggested that she meet him in the neighbouring town. Peeta had been there a couple of times with some of the other men. It was a much bigger centre with a movie theatre and a couple of dance halls. The market town next to the base where Katniss lived had only a couple of pubs and a few local shops. Dances were held from time to time in the church hall, but nothing regular.

She had used the excuse that there were a few things she needed to do in the town before she met him. But he wasn't a total fool - he knew why she'd suggested meeting there instead. Being the son of the baker and Delly the daughter of the bank manager had made them a pretty recognizable couple in his small hometown. If Delly were away and he appeared with a dark-haired English girl on his arm, people would certainly notice, and he could just imagine the kind of gossip it would spark. Peeta could not blame Katniss for not wanting to parade them on her front doorstep, but it made him sad that it was necessary for them to hide.

She was waiting for him at the town square, on the corner by the post office, as agreed. She wore a knitted beret and matching scarf, the collar of her winter coat pulled high to her chin. She looked cold. He noted that the elbows of her coat were worn and it did not look thick enough to keep her warm against the bite of the harsh winter wind, but her shoes were polished until they shone. She looked anxious as he followed her gaze until it fell on him, and he saw the relief that flooded her face. He had not considered that she would be afraid that he would not show - the thought of not coming had never crossed his mind.

He gave what he hoped was a confident wave as he hurried towards her.

"Hullo," she said, and he wondered if the pink tint of her cheeks was entirely due to the wind's chill.

"Hi." They stood for a moment in silence waiting for the other to say something until they both spoke at once.

"What did you fancy doing?" she asked.

"I brought something for you," he blurted.

"You have?" She looked surprised but not in an excited way, more with suspicion, and he had a sinking feeling that this was a mistake. Some of the guys in the surrounding bunks had been talking the other night about girls they met with and how they always appreciated gifts. One of the others had laughed, "Appreciate? More like expect. I think it's one of the main things we've got going for us."

They'd talked of girls dropping not so subtle hints about how they'd die to get their hands on new nylon stockings or how they couldn't even remember how chocolate tasted, and how grateful they always were afterwards. Peeta had not even thought about bringing anything with him until he overheard their conversation, and then he had panicked that he wasn't prepared. He had some chocolate, but he had to buy some stockings off of a dodgy soldier named Marvel who always seemed to have a ready supply to trade.

The other men had insinuated that this was what girls wanted, what they expected from a date, but all of a sudden Peeta didn't feel so sure.

Katniss was looking at him expectantly. He coughed nervously and reached into the inside pocket of his overcoat to produce two packs of nylons and a chocolate bar. She stared at them blankly before she looked up at him "What is this?" she asked coolly.

"I…uh… thought you'd like them," he said uncertainly. Shit, now he knew it was a bad idea. _Think Mellark, think_, he urged himself, _you need to talk your way out of this one_. "You know, after the other night, I thought you might like some real stockings, not that I didn't enjoy trying to find the tops of the others, but you know, it's a bit cold for bare legs, so the next time we go dancing you might like to wear these." He saw the hard line of her mouth soften a little. "And I thought we could eat the chocolate at the movies."

"Okay," she said taking his gifts although her eyes suggested she was not entirely convinced. "As long as that's why, and not because you thought you needed to give them to spend time with me, or that you thought I was expecting them."

He shook his head, "No, honestly, I never thought that." And it was true, he would never have thought that of her if he hadn't listened to the other guys.

"Have you had lunch yet?" he asked, quick to change the subject.

She shook her head. "I'm not really hungry," she answered not altogether convincingly.

"Really? I could eat a horse. Is there anywhere around here we can get a bite?"

"There's a restaurant round the corner. And I wouldn't be at all surprised to find them serving up horse and calling it beef."

They walked side by side out of the square. Peeta would have liked to have held her hand, but Katniss held the strap of her handbag that she wore across her body with both hands. So instead, he stuffed his empty hands into his coat pockets to keep them warm, and then wished he hadn't when he was reminded of what he carried there**. **

The packet of condoms in his pocket felt so obvious he was instantly worried that Katniss would somehow guess that he carried them. He was concerned that if she somehow discovered them she would think he expected to have sex again. Peeta had to admit he seriously hoped they would, but he didn't want her to think it was the only reason he wanted to see her again.

He had not been carrying condoms on the night of the dance, never dreaming he would need them. He and the other soldiers were issued six per month, the medical officers being keen to promote their use to prevent the spread of VD. They'd handed them to him the first month with a booklet on how it was every good soldier's duty to ensure he was fit to fight and to avoid putting themselves at risk.

But they had both been virgins, so there had been no risk of disease. He wondered if they really needed to use them anyway. If he were careful, more careful than last time, and withdrew in time, then surely they would be alright. Perhaps he would wait and see if Katniss suggested using them; if she wanted to then he was at least prepared. Anyway, he was getting a bit ahead of himself, presuming that she would want to do that again with him. But he had not forgotten how she had implied there would be a next time, and he was really hoping there would be soon.

The restaurant Katniss took him to was really just a large canteen, with long tables that were already busy with workers on their lunch breaks. The limited menu of the day was chalked up on a board on the wall. He followed her lead as she collected a tray and headed up to the serving counter. Peeta wondered if she had brought him here because it was the only place she knew or because it was cheap. Whatever the reason, he thought as he eyed up the meal that was handed to him, it could not have been because of the food itself.

They found a seat at the end of one of the tables and he noticed that despite her earlier protestations of not being hungry Katniss ate heartily. The soup was grim, mainly just carrot floating in some greasy looking water, but he felt too embarrassed to leave it. Everyone else was tucking in as if it were the best food they'd tasted in ages. The cottage pie that followed was a little better, although there was a strong possibility that Katniss had been right about the horse. He would have liked to have offered it to her to eat, she looked like she needed it more than him. But after the earlier blunder with the nylons and chocolate he got the feeling she would likely take offence to his offer.

The conversation was stilted at first, until he asked her about her sister, and from there she began to relax and the conversation flowed. She recalled Primrose's phase of bringing home every half-dead animal she could find and trying to revive them. Even though she rolled her eyes and grumbled about having to stay up all night at Prim's insistence to help her look after a squirrel that had been hit by a car, the love Katniss had for her sister was obvious. It did not go unnoticed that she hardly spoke of her mother. He told her about life as the baby of the family and she laughed with shocked dismay at some of the practical jokes his older brothers had played on him when they were younger. He wondered if she noticed that when he talked about his family he did not mention his mother either.

When they had left the restaurant they had found it was raining and so had dashed, coats held high over their heads, to the nearest cinema. At the entrance to the foyer Peeta had removed his coat, shaking the rain from it; she had laughingly scolded him for wetting her, but then she had reached up to wipe a few stray drops that remained on his cheek. It was the first intimate move she had made, and he knew she'd done it without thought as he saw the look on her face and felt her hand still against his face as she realized what she had done. But as she'd tried to quickly pull her hand away, he had caught a hold of it and brought her palm to his lips. She had stared at him like a rabbit caught in headlights, and feeling bold he had grinned and then leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips. It took her a split second to respond, and then his heart sped as she kissed him back. They had pulled apart at a passerby's comment for them to save it for the backseats of the movie. Katniss had looked mortified, but he felt like his face might split he was grinning so much. Slipping his arm around her waist they had bought tickets for the next film due to start.

Katniss had made to move to the middle of the theatre, but instead he had grabbed her hand and pulled her to the empty back row that was shrouded in darkness. A news-reel was already playing, spouting some propaganda about allied victories in some ravaged part of Europe. He watched her with the grayish white light of the black and white film illuminating her face. She was truly beautiful, not in an obvious way, not like Delly who could and had been known to literally stop traffic. But in her own unique way, Katniss was completely captivating.

Peeta put his hand on top of hers on the armrest and she turned to him with a questioning look before returning his smile. He pressed his lips to hers again. "Peeta!" she had exclaimed in a hushed whisper, looking around to see if anyone was watching. But the back row of the mid-afternoon matinee was empty apart for them.

"What?" he said innocently. "No one can see us here."

She'd looked around again, seeing that what he said was true, no one was taking the slightest bit of notice of them. He had seen her resolve wavering and so had kissed her again, and this time she did not hesitate to reciprocate.

When they had finally stepped out of the movie theatre into the late afternoon dusk, Peeta honestly couldn't say what the film he had paid to see had been about, and he couldn't have been happier.

**...~...**

**England, February 1944**

Katniss bit her lip to contain the smug grin that was itching to spread across her face. She could feel Peeta's breath warm against her neck, his arm slung across her body in his sleep. She let herself enjoy the moment, imagining that this was what it would be like to wake up beside him. The few times they had been together he would fall asleep first, but when she woke in the morning he was always gone, slipping out before first light without disturbing her. The benefit of being used to keeping baker's hours, he had told her, was that when he had a night's leave he could risk falling asleep here with her knowing that he would wake with enough time to get back to base in the morning. She only wished that just once she could wake with him there beside her.

Last night a group of them, including Annie and Finn, had driven to a Valentine's dance. It was incredible to see how altered Annie was within such a short time. She had always seemed somewhat preoccupied, "away with the fairies" as Jo put it. Katniss had always suspected that it was more likely the ghosts of the past that filled her mind. But watching her last night, she had been very much alive as she laughed and danced with Finn.

Jo had made a few crude comments after New Year's Eve, but Katniss had deflected them by telling her friend not to be ridiculous, that Peeta had merely walked her home. If Annie suspected that Katniss and Peeta had been meeting she had not mentioned it, but she did not look surprised to see the way they acted when they were together. Katniss knew that after Annie's speech on New Year's Eve she was unlikely to pass judgment on her, but still, she wondered what her friend thought of her behavior. She just wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

Katniss had danced only once with a different partner. Peeta had taken a long time to get served at the crowded bar, and when a British soldier had asked her very politely if she would like to dance she had seen no reason to say no. She had seen Peeta's face from the side, standing with some others from their crowd. The soldier next to him was talking, but he seemed to pay no attention, instead wistfully watching her on the dance floor.

"Is that your fella?" her dance partner had asked. "The one who don't look too 'appy that you're dancin' with me?"

She hadn't known how to respond. Was he? Was Peeta hers, or did he belong to someone else, a girl overseas who waited for his return? Just as, God willing, Gale would return to her? She had felt conscious of the ring on her finger at that moment and she'd wondered if the soldier had noticed she was engaged and presumed it was to Peeta. Luckily the song had ended then and she had been able to give an excuse to hurry back to the group.

She wasn't sure if she imagined it but Peeta seemed to hold her a little closer when they next danced, and he kept his arm around her waist when they rejoined the others.

Peeta had hopped out with her when the truck had dropped her home outside her cottage. She had slipped the fact that Primrose was sleeping elsewhere into a conversation with Annie earlier that evening, knowing that Peeta was listening, and had enjoyed watching his reaction. The smile he had tried to suppress and the glint as he'd caught her eye had her biting her lip in nervous anticipation of getting him alone at home again.

He waited as she retrieved the key from its hiding place, but he slipped his arms round her and began to kiss her neck as she placed the key in the lock. She laughed, wriggling from his grip as the door opened. He caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs, trapping her against the wall.

"There's something I've been wanting to do all night," he smirked. But instead of kissing her, his hands went to the hem of her dress, lifting it up her thigh until he reached the top of her stocking. "I just wanted to know if they were real this time or whether I'm going to get eyeliner all over me again!" he grinned.

"Just don't ladder them," she teased."It would be improper to say what I had to do with an American soldier to get them."

"Improper to say, huh? I remember you being pretty vocal at the time."

"Peeta!" she cried with shocked laughter, giving him a playful shove.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. In fact," he looked at her cheekily, "I think you should take me upstairs and tell me exactly what you'd like me to do right now."

"Well," she pondered thoughtfully, "there's a washer on the bathroom sink that needs to be fixed, I'd like you to do that, and then one of the handles on the dresser is a bit loose, you could…" She'd squealed as he had cut her teasing short by picking her up and throwing her easily over one shoulder before mounting the stairs with her.

"Put me down now, Peeta Mellark!" she had demanded, "Before we both fall and break our necks. I'm not a sack of flour you can lug around."

But he hadn't stopped until he had dumped her unceremoniously on the bed, laughing at her as she scowled up at him. Taking her hand he'd helped her back up from the bed and watched as she removed her coat to hang it on the back of the door.

"What?" she asked, still sounding a little petulant as she turned to find him staring intently at her.

"I was just thinking you might be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"Might be?" she asked pretending to be offended.

"Okay, definitely, completely and utterly the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

She laughed, knowing he had to be joking, "You really are ridiculously full of sh…" but he stopped her words with his kiss and the way he kissed her made her wonder if perhaps he really did believe it after all.

They lost their clothes as quickly as they could, moving back to the bed. The heat of their kisses continued to grow and his fingers stroking between her legs caused her to arch against him. His mouth moved over her, his tongue and teeth teasing at her flesh. But he made no attempt to enter her, he just continued the blissful torture until she understood what it was he wanted. He wanted her to be vocal, to tell him what she wanted, just as he'd joked on the stairs. Instead, she took him in her hand, stroking and caressing him, never quite enough to satisfy, until at last he swore. Pinning her hands down on either side of her head she felt his length slide against her where she was already wet**.** She grinned at her victory as he thrust into her without her needing to beg him. She lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around him, as he continued to thrust harder, her hands clinging to his shoulders. Eventually she gave him what he desired, a vocal confirmation of what she had wanted all along as she cried out his name. He swore, a hushed moan, as he pulled out spilling on to her inner thigh before dropping his head to her shoulder in sated exhaustion

It had been so much better than their very first time, or the rushed encounter after the cinema, when they had tried and failed to be quiet in the sitting room whilst her sister slept upstairs.

And again last night, after their ragged breaths and contented exhaustion had subsided and Katniss had once more found herself moving beneath him, she was amazed to discover that the pleasure and satisfaction surpassed even the first time that evening. Was that how it was supposed to be, she wondered? Did sex get better every time? She felt her cheeks glow as she thought with embarrassment of the things she was sure she had said, lost in the heat of the moment, directing and encouraging him in his attentions, and the way she had moaned his name.

And then she remembered the way he had looked down at her after, whilst her heart had thumped in her chest, her breath still heavy with exhausted contentment.

"Katniss, I…," but he'd stopped with a little shake of his head as if he'd thought better of what he was going to say, and then with a genuine smile he'd said, "I sure am glad you came to that dance on New Year's Eve." But she intuitively sensed what had been on the tip of his tongue before he'd changed his mind, because she was scared to admit that she felt it, too. She was falling in love with Peeta Mellark, and it frightened her, because she knew this stolen time they were enjoying together could not last forever. But who knew what tomorrow would bring, when lives were ended with the squeeze of a trigger or the drop of a bomb, over in a second with little warning. Did they not deserve whatever happiness they could find today?

Another girl thousands of miles away might wear his ring, but in this moment he was hers. If she didn't think of their pasts or their futures, but only took what the present gave her, then everything was perfect.

She snuggled back against the warmth of this chest and heard his muffled sigh in her hair. She turned, still under the weight of his arm, to face him. She could hardly make out his outline, but she still managed to find his lips.

He sighed again, "Did I oversleep?"

"No, I just…I just wanted to kiss you."

He chuckled sleepily, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead. With her head on his chest she smiled again to herself. Yes, if she froze this point in time and did not allow herself to think of what would come, then this was the most perfect moment she could imagine.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Vera Lynn** was known as "the Forces' Sweetheart" in Britain. Her songs "The white cliffs of Dover" and "We'll meet again" became emblematic hits during the war. Particularly the latter with its nostalgic lyrics "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when, but I know we'll meet again some sunny day" made the song one of its emblematic hits and epitomises British wartime music.

**The Labour Party** was initially a left-wing political party (these day's its just a bit left of centre) and one of the two main British political parties.


	4. Chapter 4

**England, early March 1944**

_You are my honey, honeysuckle, _

_I am the bee,_

_I'd like to sip the honey sweet_

_From those red lips, you see_

_I love you dearly, dearly, _

_And I want you to love me,_

_You are my honey, honeysuckle, _

_I am the bee._

Katniss sang softly to herself as she gazed out of the kitchen window at the garden. It was an old song that she hadn't heard for years, but she remembered clearly her father singing it to her mother right there in the garden. A silly grin on his face as she and Primrose, who couldn't have even been at school yet, buzzed around their parents pretending to be bees.

They'd been happy, a real family, something they had ceased to be the day her father had died. It was almost seven years since he had died when his motorcycle had fatally collided with a lorry at an intersection. Sometimes Katniss thought her mother had almost welcomed the outbreak of war. It had given her a cause to lose herself in and provided an excuse to escape her home and family and the painful memories they held. Without a thought it seemed, she had left her eldest daughter to pick up the pieces and fill the absence created by her nursing work.

Katniss still missed her father terribly, although with time the loss felt less acute than it had. Her mother had always teased that Katniss was a daddy's girl, and it was true she had felt closer to him. He had always been the one she had gone to when she wanted help, or that she sought out when she was hurt. Nothing had ever truly filled the void left by her father and she wondered if she would have started dating Gale so seriously at such a young age if he had still been alive.

Katniss was broken from her daydreams by the banging on the front door.

"Primrose? Prim, can you get the door?" she called out. When there was no response from her sister she dried her hands, wet from washing dishes, and went to the door.

Standing there on the doorstep, his hat in his hand, was Gale.

"Gale! What are you doing here?"

"I came to surprise my girl! Don't I even get a hug?"

"Of course!" She rushed to hug him, placing a kiss to his cheek, and he then turned his head to kiss her lips. It felt all wrong - awkward and alien, and she wondered if he felt it too, but he gave no indication that he did.

Gale settled himself down in one of the easy chairs in the front room with a sigh, whilst Katniss rushed to the kitchen to boil the kettle, on edge about what she was going to do. Primrose came in through the back door as she was spooning the tea into the pot.

"Primrose, where have you been?"

"Just over to the Norris', their cat has just had the dearest litter of kittens. Do you think Mother would let us have one?"

"Probably, if you ask her. Look, Gale is here, but I need you to do me a favour. It's very important, Prim."

"What is it?"

"I need you to cycle up to the army base..."

"The American one?"

"Yes. Listen, I need you to ask the guard on the door to pass a note to someone, it's very, very important. Do you think you can do this?"

"Yes, ow! Katniss, you're hurting my hands."

Katniss hadn't realized that in her desperation she had gripped Primrose's hands in hers tightly enough to leave red marks.

"Sorry, it's just that the message must get to him."

Primrose looked at her with a cheeky grin and tut-tutted at her big sister. "Why, what have you been doing, Katniss?"

"Nothing, it's none of your business."

"What about Gale? Is it his business?"

"Look, do this for me and I'll go round to the Norris' and buy one of those damn kittens myself tomorrow, alright?"

Primrose gave a smugly satisfied smile and nodded. She waited for her sister to scribble the note, "Remember you must tell them it's very important he gets it before he leaves tomorrow."

"Okay, I know. You can trust me, I'm not a baby."

No, thought Katniss as she closed the door after her sister, you're not. The war had made Primrose grow up much quicker than Katniss would have liked. Primrose was not even sixteen yet and already she knew too many who had lost loved ones, boys they had grown up and gone to school with already cold and in the ground. Gale and his brother Rory sent God knows where, never knowing when or if they would be back.

"What happened to that cuppa?" Gale called from the other room.

"Just coming." Katniss called back, trying to make her voice sound normal, but she was unable to stop her hand from shaking as she poured the boiling water into the pot.

…**~…**

Peeta's birthday had never been a day for celebrating, not since the day he was born but his twin died. There were complications at their birth involving the cord wrapped around her neck, with every push it tightened and the doctors had failed to revive her. If she had been born first then perhaps it would have been different. He knew that was how his mother saw it, his rush to get into the world had killed the daughter she had longed for. Logically, he knew that his sister's death had been way beyond the control of a tiny infant, yet it was a burden he had been shouldered with at a young age, and for which he was forever trying to make amends.

He had learnt early on that it would have been preferable if everyone could forget what date his birthday was and let the day pass like any other. Mother was always on edge for days before, snapping at the slightest thing and retreating to her room for hours, only to emerge subdued with swollen red eyes. In later years, she would go to the doctors for something to help during this period. She would then spend the week in a haze-like existence, but at least it was preferable to the emotional alternative.

But this year was going to be different. He had not mentioned his birthday to Katniss - he didn't need a gift, he just wanted to be with her. He had some free time and intended to take her into the neighbouring town to find a restaurant; not like that canteen she'd taken him to, but somewhere they could get a decent meal (if that was possible), somewhere he could treat her.

"Hey Mellark, you've got a message." A hand clapped him on the shoulder breaking him from his reverie. "I know she's blond and cute, but she's a bit young for you, isn't she?" the man named Jackson questioned. "I never had you pegged as a cradle snatcher."

Peeta stared at the man, baffled by his comment. Jackson handed him the note with his name written on it and when he unfolded the piece of paper he saw it simply said _Gale is here._

He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. All the hopes, all the plans he had made over the last couple of weeks were washed away with three simple words. What a fool he'd been. Katniss was engaged, as good as married. The few brief months they'd spent together didn't change that. And it didn't alter the fact that he was in the same situation. What did he think he was he doing? Was he really considering throwing away all the history he had with Delly for a girl he hardly knew? He didn't even know what he meant to her. Was this just a fling for her, something to help her forget the war and all that it meant? Had he been mistaken when he thought that it might mean more?

He tried not to let himself picture her now in some other man's arms, the man she was promised to. The thought made him feel sick.

He stormed back to the barracks, knocking into Finn who was just leaving the building. "Hey, watch where you're going." Peeta said nothing, continuing to push past him. Finn followed him back into the dorm. "What are you doing here? I thought you had some leave."

"Change of plan. Here," he tossed the scrap of paper that authorised his absence at Finn. "You're on leave now. Just let me know what you're supposed to be doing and I'll cover you."

"Are you sure?" Peeta could see Finn was trying hard not to look too delighted. "I know you were looking forward to seeing Katniss."

Peeta shook his head, "She has other company this weekend. Take it, go on, get out of here, go see Annie."

After Finn had left, Peeta sat with his head in his hands for a long time, trying hard not to be jealous of his friend who was on his way to spend time with a girl who would be happy to see him. Trying hard to remind himself that Gale had every right to see his fiancée, that it was he, Peeta, who was the interloper who had no rightful claim to Katniss. He tried hard to tell himself to be grateful for what he already had, a beautiful fiancée back home who was waiting for him.

And to be grateful that for even the shortest of time, there had been a period when he had been able to fool himself that Katniss was his.

…**~…**

As she trudged back up the hill from the train station, Katniss could not stop the tears that started to flow. Instead of heading home, she took across the fields to the distant trees, despite wearing one of her best dresses. She sought the peace and the solitude that only the woods offered her. She found a stump and sat down, not even bothering to check on her snares for a kill.

She had held it together long enough to see Gale off at the station. Putting on a good face, smiling, kissing him goodbye, telling him to keep safe and that she would see him soon. All the while she had been dying inside. She was sure that if Gale suspected anything it was that she was upset at his leaving and that was definitely part of it. Gale had been so changed, so much thinner than she remembered. His face was set a little harder now, and she noticed a tightness around his eyes that had not been there before. He seemed so weary of it all, so tired of life, so unlike the Gale she knew. The Gale who was full of such passion and fire for the just causes he believed in.

When he had asked, after kissing her, if she still wanted to wait until they were married, she had not known what to say. Now, with him going off to war, was not the time to tell him news that could break him. Instead she had asked him if he had been with anyone else, reassuring him that she would understand if he had. But he had shaken his head, surprised by her question, and told her that it had always been her and if she wanted to wait until after their wedding then he would also. She couldn't do it; she couldn't send him off to what could be his death on false hope. She knew there wouldn't be a wedding, whatever happened with Peeta; she knew now that what she felt for Gale wasn't true love. She did love Gale, she always would, it just wasn't enough.

She had taken him to her bed, knowing that if he died on the battlefield without experiencing this greatest intimacy because she had held him back all this time she would never be able to live with herself.

It had been awkward, even though they had some amount of familiarity with each other's bodies. Gale had not had the same interest in ensuring her enjoyment as Peeta had, but it had not been awful. He was gentle with her, and afterwards they lay in each other's arms until he fell asleep. Only then did she slip to the bathroom to wash herself. Looking in the mirror she saw a girl reflected there that she did not recognize, and she could not decide whether what she had just done was an act of love and kindness, or an act of the worst kind of deceit.

With a cold and heavy heart she had slipped back into bed and lain awake until the morning, thinking of Peeta.

**England, late March 1944**

"Hey Peeta, isn't that the girl from the New Year's Eve dance?" Mitchell asked. Peeta looked up – there, on the other side of the road, was Katniss, chatting with an old lady. She had not seen him yet but it was only a matter of time. Mitchell had been with them that night, in fact it had been the thought of his hands on her that had caused Peeta to drag Katniss onto the dance floor whilst Mitchell had been half-way through asking her to dance.

He wiped his hands on the rag, closing the hood of the truck. Damn thing had broken down again. He hadn't fixed it but it would hold up long enough to get back to base where he could do a proper job on it. He just wanted to get out of here before Katniss looked up and saw him.

He had promised himself after Gale's visit that he would put distance between himself and Katniss. That he would not let himself fool around with someone else's girl, trying to think how he would feel if it were the other way around. It was easy to make the decision when he did not have to see her, but now that Katniss stood across the road his resolve did not seem so strong. He wanted to jog across the road, act as if nothing were the matter, that it didn't bother him in the slightest that she had cancelled their date. But he feared that she would soon see through his act, and see how hurt he had been and how hung up on her he really was.

"So, aren't you going to say hello to her?" Mitchell asked. "You seemed pretty close that night." Peeta shook his head. "So, you don't mind if I give it a go?" Mitchell continued.

Mitchell took one step forward before Peeta slammed his body back against the truck. "Look, all you had to do was say you were interested in her, no need to break my bloody ribs," Mitchell shouted at him.

"I'm sorry," Peeta muttered, but he wasn't really paying attention to him. Instead he was looking across the road to where Katniss stood, staring at him. "Here," he tossed the truck's keys to Mitchell. "I'll make my own way back."

The other guy grumbled something under his breath, and Peeta didn't blame him for thinking he was a jerk. As the truck rumbled off, he and Katniss were left on either side of the road watching each other.

It was her who made the first move and crossed over to him.

"Hi," he nodded, trying to act nonchalant but getting the impression he was failing miserably.

"Hello," she answered quietly. "I didn't know if I'd get a chance to see you again."

Somehow their feet started moving and they walked though the town together. It was late and he didn't like the idea of her walking home alone. Mitchell and he had been giving the truck a _test drive_ to the pub. It was going to be a long walk back to base in the dark. They walked on in silence until they reached her house.

"I had no idea that Gale would turn up like that. I really had been looking forward to spending time with you."

He felt his heart clench as he thought about how much he had wanted to see her on his birthday.

"And did you two have a good time?" He knew he had no right for his voice to be so cold.

He saw her lip tremble and she took a deep breath. "Gale was…is going overseas again. He…he was different." She took another deep breath, steadying herself. "I think he was prepared to die," she said. He heard her swallow before she looked him in the eye. "I … I slept with him. He's been waiting for me all this time, and all I could see was that he was going to die, and it would be my fault that he died without ever being with someone the way we had."

Peeta closed his eyes, exhaling shakily before he opened them again. He'd been a fool to let himself get in so deep, deluding himself that this could be anything more than a brief affair, and now it was time to put an end to the charade.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he said, his voice hard. "You are marrying the guyand it's not like this," he waved his hand between the two of them, "was anything serious. We're both engaged after all, we both knew this was just a bit of fun."

"Just a bit of fun…," she repeated as if confused. Part of him wanted to admit it was a blatant lie, but the other part was glad she looked as wretched as he felt. "Is that really what you think of me?"

"Sure," he lied, "we both knew what we were doing, just keeping each other company while we were lonely. I guess I should thank you, really."

He flinched as her palm struck his cheek, and he blamed the sting of the slap for the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"I wasn't some kind of welcoming committee, and I don't need your thanks!" she snapped angrily. "I explained how I felt about being with Gale. When he comes back it's over, I know now that I don't love him enough to marry him."

"Don't call the wedding off on my account, sweetheart." He did not feel proud as she winced at the sound of his sneer.

"It's not because of you," she spat back. "The whole world doesn't revolve around you, Peeta Mellark. I knew when I decided to tell you that you probably wouldn't want to see me again."

"And when did you decide to tell me? When you saw me a couple of minutes ago, or were you planning on sending me another note?"

"I decided to tell you when I lay awake all night afterwards thinking about you. I knew I didn't want to lie even if it meant losing you."

"I wish you had." He turned to go, he could feel himself starting to crumble and he didn't want her to see him cry.

"Peeta," she reached for him but he stepped back so that her hand fell empty between them.

"I can't do this Katniss. I'm sorry, but I just need to go."

He didn't walk back to the base, though; instead he walked up and down the country lane, replaying everything she had told him. She could have lied to him, deceived him as she had Gale, but she hadn't. Surely that meant something, that he was the one she trusted. She had put everything on the line to tell him the truth, and in doing so had left herself entirely vulnerable.

He sprinted back to the cottage before he could change his mind again, thumping at the door until she yanked it open.

"What are you doing, you're going to wake Primro…"

But he didn't care who he woke. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He pushed her up against the hallway wall and kicked the door shut behind him.

"I'm sorry Katniss," he said, pulling back to look at her. "You have to know I didn't mean what I said before. You could never be just a bit of fun. You must know how I feel about you." He stared intently into her eyes, urging her to understand how he felt. "It's just that...I need to know that you want this too, that it's me you want, not him."

"I don't want to be with Gale," she said earnestly. "I want to be with you, Peeta. It's been you since the first time you kissed me."

His mouth met hers again; he could not get enough of her, and her returning kisses were just as desperate as she pressed herself against him.

They stumbled into the front room still wrapped in each other's arms, not breaking their kiss. They were in too much of a hurry to undress this time. Her back hit the soft rug in front of the hearth, his hands pushed down her slacks and her knickers, at the same time undoing his own trousers as she wriggled out of hers completely. Her thighs wrapped around him as he thrust into her. She bit her lip to silence her cries and stop herself from waking her sister. His thrusts became harder and deeper with a need to claim her as his. He felt her nails dig into his shoulders as her body found a needy rhythm with his. She muffled her cry against his neck as she came first, and he collapsed against her moments later.

"I love you, Katniss," he said, shocking himself in his confession.

She smiled tears blurring her eyes, "I love you, too, Peeta."

And it was worth every minute of his long walk back in the dark, even the point when he fell in the ditch next to the road and soaked his trousers, just to hear those five words.

**Notes:**

The Honeysuckle and the Bee Written and composed by Alb. H. Fitz & William H. Penn, 1901. Old musical hall song.


	5. Chapter 5

**England, late April 1944**

Thoughts of Peeta had a tendency to flood her mind at the most inopportune moments, she realized as she stood in the line at the grocery store. She could not help but think about yesterday.

Peeta had been able to meet with her briefly, taking a truck he was working on out for a test run. He had explained to her before that he had not been a mechanic at home, rather his family owned a bakery. But he hadn't wanted to get stuck in the catering corp. It turned out he was good with his hands and picked up new skills easily. She felt a blush on her cheeks as she considered how true that was.

Yesterday, he had been a little on edge, fidgety and nervous, and she had finally lost her patience and told him to spit it out and tell her what was bothering him. He had said that he had been thinking, _a lot_, about something he wanted them to try. When he had said he wanted to put his mouth to her _there_, she had protested. Why would he want to? She had gasped. He had just raised his eyebrows with a _'seriously, are you really asking me that'_ expression. She had finally agreed when he had assured her that if she wanted him to stop at any point she just had to say so.

When his tongue had found the tight bud that his fingers usually so skillfully worked, she had bucked against him with surprise. She had stared down at him in shock whilst he had grinned back at her. He had continued to stimulate her with his alternations of licking and sucking until she had cried out for him, wanting to feel him inside her. He had used his fingers, driving them into her whilst continuing the sweet assault on her with his tongue. She had forgotten the need to be quiet, moaning beneath him as she came so hard she wondered whether all the times before had truly counted.

Afterwards, as he came to lie beside her kissing her forehead, he had laughed and asked "So, not so bad after all?"

With feigned indifference she had given an exhausted shrug. "It was okay, I suppose."

"Liar," he had laughed, rolling them over so she was pinned beneath him, and he tickled her sides just above her hipbone where he knew she could not bear it. Until finally she had shyly admitted it had been amazing and he had grinned smugly. Tell me again he had said, but the words she repeated had been lost in a moan as he had thrust into her.

She bit her lip, squeezing her thighs together at the thought of him. The lady behind her tutted and she realised that in her daydream state she had not been paying attention to the queue that had moved in front of her. The woman in front was now at the counter being served. She overheard her collecting her ration of powdered eggs and butter, before the customer leant a little closer to the woman behind the counter and whispered that she needed sanitary products.

Katniss, went cold - she could not remember the last time she had needed to buy anything. When had her last period been? She was usually regular as clockwork, every month. She counted back over the weeks in her head, and then again like a child on her fingers just to be certain. She should have had her monthly period after Gale's visit, but it had not happened. She had been so preoccupied worrying about Peeta and everything that had happened she had not stopped to notice that she had missed it. She knew it was possible to miss a period due to stress, but that didn't explain why it had not come since then. She had never been happier in her life than she was now with Peeta. It had been four weeks since she had told him about Gale, four weeks since he had told her he loved her. She felt a cold sweat of panic break out over her top lip as she calculated - she was almost two months late.

The lady behind her gave her a tap on the shoulder, and when Katniss looked up she realized that the woman behind the counter was waiting for her. She hurriedly ordered her groceries, handing over her ration book in exchange for the essential items, and rushed home.

She was glad that Primrose was out. She sat at the kitchen table staring at the grains in the wood. Primrose's kitten started to play with her shoes, but she was too distracted to kick him away.

What was she going to do? What could she tell Peeta? She could not even say for certain that it was his. If her estimate of when her period had been due was correct then it was most likely his, but she could not be sure. This couldn't be happening to her. They had tried to be careful. Apart from the first time and then again after the argument, Peeta had always pulled out before his release. With Gale she had told him to do the same, that she couldn't afford to get pregnant in the middle of a war, only he had forgotten, too caught up in the intensity of the moment to withdraw in time. Perhaps she could be wrong about being pregnant? Surely it took more than three mistakes? She should wait a few more weeks, she decided, just to make sure her period did not come, and then she would figure something out.

Peeta had told her he loved her, but there had never been any talk of what they would do after the war. There had been no plans and no promises made. Nothing had changed - he was still engaged to be married to his girl back home. She did not want her pregnancy to force his hand, to push him into making a decision he might not otherwise have made. There were plenty of girls who would have used this situation to their advantage, plenty that wanted out of this broken grey island and were more than happy to swap it for the attractive American lifestyle they saw at the movies, but she did not want that. She didn't want to leave her home or her friends, and especially not her sister. She tried to imagine a life without Peeta, his easy going laugh, the way he looked at her with those blue eyes; but if the child wasn't his, she couldn't trap him with the responsibility. And what would she do if the baby were Gale's? She imagined herself married to Gale, a gaggle of dark-haired children running wild around the house, a baby on her hip. Gale would be a good husband and a good father, she had no doubt about that, but she was not sure that she could be a good wife to him.

She made the decision to do nothing. To sit and wait and hope that her period came in the next few weeks. And if it didn't, then she would try to hide it for as long as possible. This was her problem; she had been stupid enough to think that there would not be consequences to her actions. She would deal with this problem as she always did, on her own.

**England, May 1944**

Katniss bit nervously at the skin beside her fingernail, gnawing at it until she realized she had made it bleed. Peeta had said he would meet her here in the woods with news of his meeting with his superior. He had assured her it would be fine, just a formality really. He would tell the officer how much he loved her and they could be married before he shipped out within the fortnight. But she couldn't help but worry, and she had not slept a wink last night thinking about it.

She thought about how happy Peeta had been when she'd told him she would marry him. He never stopped amazing her; his reactions were never what she expected them to be. He should have left her when she had first told him she had slept with Gale, but instead he had said he loved her for the first time that night. He should have left her when she told him she was pregnant and that it might not be his, but instead he had told her it didn't matter, he would look after her. And when she had agreed to marry him, thinking he had proposed as a practical solution to her predicament, he had shouted for joy, spinning her round till they had fallen to the ground giggling like children.

But here they were, about to get married, and they still hadn't discussed what the future would hold. He had not mentioned whether he had told his family about her, and there had been no talk about whether he had broken off his engagement with Delly. For someone who was unusually open about their feelings, she knew that this was not a good omen.

She looked up as she heard the snap of twigs. She prayed that Peeta's life never depended on his ability to creep up on the enemy undetected in the woods. Despite the fact he was only walking normally she could hear him from a distance as if he were crashing towards her.

She felt her chest tighten as soon as she saw his face. He tried to give her a smile, but he didn't quite manage it. It was clear that he had failed.

"He refused, didn't he?" she asked.

Peeta nodded.

"But why? Why did he not give you permission? You said it would be easy. You said you would just tell him that you loved me and that we were having a baby and that they would let us get married." She heard her voice break on the last word; it seemed like an impossibility now.

Peeta said nothing. He rubbed his hand across his face and she noticed that he avoided her eyes.

"But you didn't tell him that, did you? You didn't tell him it was your baby, did you?" she said her voice rising.

"Katniss, it wasn't like that."

"Why? Why would you do that? You knew they would let us get married if you said it was yours. The only reason you would do that was if you were having doubts. That's it, isn't it?" She stared at him with clarity now, understanding. "You had doubts about marrying me, the possibility of getting stuck with someone else's bastard child."

"Katniss." He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she stumbled backwards away from him.

"Don't!" she spat at him. "Don't touch me."

"Katniss, please, it doesn't mean anything. As soon as I get back, we'll try again. We'll get married when I come back," he pleaded.

She shook her head. "I believed you," she said. "I believed you when you said you wanted to marry me, I believed you when you said you loved me."

"I do Katniss, I do love you." He sounded close to tears.

"Maybe, but you're too scared to do anything about it, aren't you? Too ashamed to tell your family that you've knocked me up."

"We don't know that I did!" he snapped back, and she saw the instant regret in his face, but it was too late, it had been said.

"You're right, we don't. But you can be sure I won't make this mistake again. When I tell Gale I'm pregnant, I'll leave no doubt in his mind that it's his."

"Don't do this Katniss, please."

"Leave me alone, Peeta." But instead he closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands, and he kissed her. She kissed him back, hard, angry kisses that told him she loved him and she hated him. He stepped them back until she felt the tree behind her. His hands roamed over her body, taking in as much of her as he could as if in desperation, as if he knew it would be the last time. Grasping her hips, digging into her flesh, squeezing her breasts, only when his hands strayed momentarily over her stomach did she regain her senses.

"Stop it!" she screamed, turning her face away from him. He staggered back as if she had hit him.

"You can't let your superior think I'm some slut who spreads her legs to every GI she meets and then fuck me up against a tree like nothing happened. You've made your decision, and I've made mine."

"You can't be serious that you're considering marrying Gale?"

"Why not?"

"Because you don't love him."

"And just look where love got me," she replied, throwing up her hands. "Go away Peeta, run back home and marry your beauty queen and leave me alone."

"I don't want to."

"You don't want me either. If you did, you would have just said the baby was yours and we'd be celebrating now. I'm going home. Don't follow me. I think it would be best for everyone if we didn't see each other again."

"Please, you don't mean that," he implored.

"Yes, Peeta," she said, quietly resolute, "I do." And she left him in the woods without allowing herself to look back even once.


	6. Chapter 6

**Normandy, France, 6 June 1944  
The D-Day Landings**

Peeta turned his head away as yet another of the men was sick over the side of the boat. The rough seas of the English Channel had affected them all, except himself and Finn. Finn because he had spent half his life on the sea, and Peeta because he had been too nervous this morning to eat.

Apart from the intermittent moans of seasick men the boat was quiet, no one in the mood for conversation. Each of them lost to their own thoughts, remembering the good times and contemplating the regrets of things they had not yet done. But Peeta could not allow himself to think like that. He was going to survive this, he had to for Katniss and her…their baby.

It seemed as if they had been waiting for this moment for weeks camped out onthe south coast waiting for their orders. This morning they had been tossed around on the water for what seemed like hours, and now that the moment was finally upon them there was no time to think. Someone yelled out "keep your heads down and run men." But the water wasn't shallow enough to run, it was up to their thighs as they waded through the water. Mitchell was in front of him, making slow work of getting through the water. Peeta passed him, then for some reason happened to look back. Mitchell was no longer coming up behind him. Instead he was peacefully floating on his back, the tide taking him out to sea. Peeta hesitated for a second, considering going back for him, when a line of fire cut up the water beside him. Head down he forged forward toward the beach.

As he hit the sand he could see he was running straight into hell. The beach was strewn with bodies from the first wave of landings, and the air rang out with gun shots and artillery shells bursting along the beach. The allies had given the Germans their own private shooting gallery and they were picking them off one by one from the beachhead.

Peeta saw the two men in front of him drop, men he knew from his regiment, men he'd shared a boat with only moments ago. But he didn't even spare them a backwards glance as he continued running for his life.

The sand blew up to his right where a shell hit and he was thrown sideways by its force. He lay dazed on his back, his ears ringing. He put his hand to his head, the explosion had blown his helmet clear off and he could feel a cut above his eye. It smarted but he didn't think it was anything too serious. Forcing himself to sit up he retched as he realized he was next to the dismembered body of a man. He closed his eyes for a second, then taking a deep breath he grabbed the dead man's helmet and hauled himself to his feet. Peeta stumbled at first before finding his feet and running. It was chaos, the blood from his cut kept running into his eye, blurring his vision, and he could not see which way he was supposed to head. All he knew was that he had to keep moving or he was a sitting duck.

Miraculously, he saw Finn in front of him. "O'Dair!" he yelled out, but the other man didn't hear him until Peeta was practically on him. "Mellark," Finn looked relieved to see him still alive. "We've got to get to the bluffs," Finn pointed to the cliffs. "We've got to get off this beach."

One moment they were running and the next Peeta was lifted off his feet by the blast, landing hard on his stomach on the sand. He lay panting, winded by his fall. The blood had clouded his right eye completely, leaving him half blind. He tried to sit up but he did not seem to be able to make his body obey.

"Peeta. Peeta." A distant call at first and then, as the ringing in his ears started to subside, louder. "Peeta."

He turned his head to see Finn lying on the beach less than a foot away, his head turned toward him. He was calling out to him, his hand outstretched, but he wasn't moving.

Peeta tried to push himself up once more, but when he failed again he used his arms to drag himself towards his friend. As he reached him, Finn grabbed his hand.

"Peeta, you've got to promise me something. Annie, you've got to go back for her. You've got to make her see she has to go to the States."

Peeta shook his head, but Finn was insistent; he gasped for air before he continued. "She doesn't have anyone, no family. And my mom, my sisters, they're going to love her. I wrote and told them all about her. She's going to have a baby. My baby," he said with a happy grin that was out of place in the horror and carnage that surrounded them. "We got married, a rushed job before we left. God knows my family has got the money for a ticket for her, and they'll take good care of them both. But I know she won't go unless someone makes her. You've got to promise me you'll make her go!" He started to struggle as he spoke, as if each word caused him pain.

"Finn, you don't need to tell me this, you can take her there yourself."

Finn raised his eyebrows and gave a thin smile. "I don't think so." Peeta followed his eyes as he looked down at his torso, and only then did Peeta see the red stain that had spread across his uniform. Finn coughed, a little blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Just say you promise," he rasped, his voice becoming thick.

Peeta nodded, "I promise." He held Finn's hand until his rasping breath fell silent. His eyes stared blindly up at the sky. In that moment, Peeta wanted nothing more than to join him, to leave all this behind. He was so tired, and he closed his eyes, but when he did he saw Katniss' face. He wasn't going to die here, not like this. He had to make it out of here, so he could beg Katniss' forgiveness for the worst mistake of his life. Moving arm over arm commando style he dragged his body up the beach towards the bluffs. He could see that there was a group of wounded sitting sheltered against the cliffs, he just needed to make it there. But he was exhausted, his eyes kept closing, his head dropping to the sand.

Peeta felt hands beneath his arms and his head was lifted off the beach. He tried to raise his face but all he could see were snapshots in between his good eye closing with fatigue. He was vaguely aware of being laid down on his back, someone saying something about his leg, or maybe it was someone else's leg, he couldn't be sure. Then voices arguing over whether it was worth wasting a shot of morphine on him. Whoever was in favour of giving him the shot won out as he felt the injection in his arm and he didn't remember anything else until he woke on the evacuation craft.

**England, October 1944 **

Katniss increasingly sought refuge in the quiet of the woods. She had always felt at peace here, but lately even more so, as here she could escape the prying eyes and the whispered gossip that followed her.

She had hidden her pregnancy for as long as possible, confiding only in Annie and Jo, and then awhile later, Primrose. She had waited to tell her sister until she was finding it difficult to hide her bump, wanting Prim to learn the news from her and not through gossip. She'd sat her little sister down and confessed that she was pregnant, expecting Primrose to be surprised. Instead, the look on Prim's face confirmed for Katniss that not only was her sister a lot wiser than she realised, but she had essentially been waiting for Katniss to open up to her.

"Of course you are, I wondered when you were going to tell me. I'm not an idiot you know, I share a bed with you, did you not think I would notice?" And then she had continued to shock Katniss by asking rather matter-of-factly, "Is it Gale's, or is it the American's?"

"Peeta," Katniss had corrected painfully, the first time she had said his name since the day in the woods. "I…I don't know," she had confessed with a shameful shake of her head. It seemed both surreal and inappropriate to have a conversation like this with her little sister.

"Do they know?"

"No, not Gale, but Peeta… yes, I told him."

"And?"

"And nothing. We argued, he...I don't think he's coming back." It was as if in that moment the truth that she had tried so hard to deny hit her. She finally admitted to herself that her hopes that Peeta would return and make everything right again became more and more unlikely with every passing day.

"Oh, Katniss. What are you going to do?" Primrose sympathetically wrapped her arms around her.

"I…I don't know," Katniss choked, swallowing down the sob that wanted to escape.

"You haven't told mum yet have you?" Katniss shook her head. "If you want me to, I'll be with you when you tell her. It's going to be okay Katniss, you'll work something out. You always do."

She knew Primrose was right, that despite how scared she felt about having the baby, she would find a way to survive this and take care of her child. But it didn't mean that she didn't long for Peeta, no matter how much she tried not to.

When she had first started to show, the round of her belly no longer easy to hide under her baggy jumpers, people had been understanding.

"Don't worry, dear," one woman had said. "He'll be home soon, you'll see." The general presumption being that the baby was Gale's.

When he had returned home, miraculously unhurt except for taking a bullet in his shoulder, Gale had rushed to her door.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he had asked. "You should have written to me. We'll put the wedding forward and get married straight away."

Despite what she had said to Peeta, she had never really had any intention of lying to Gale. Katniss had confessed to him and told him that she did not think the child was his. He had been understandably furious. He had called her every name under the sun and told her there was no way in hell he was going to raise some other man's bastard.

He had surprised her when he had returned a day later and apologised for his behavior. He couldn't marry her, he had told her, but he still cared for her and if she ever needed a friend she could rely on him. He had been true to his word, and had helped her when she had moved into the little house with Annie.

She had sat with Annie all night after she received the telegram that Finn had been killed in action. Finn had sent her a letter the night before the regiment left England, and Annie had reread it a hundred times since. He wrote that he knew she would make the most wonderful mother, she was so full of love. He had talked of his plans to take her home with him and the new life they would start there. He was so excited for his family to meet his new wife. Finally, he had promised that he would see her again, in this life or the next, and to kiss his child for him everyday and let them know how much their father loved them.

There had been no such letter from Peeta. She had expected him to follow her from the woods that day, or at least to have sent word after. He had said he would come back for her, but that had been before she had pushed him away with her promise to marry Gale. Katniss had not meant for him to truly believe her, she had just said those things to hurt him, so he would feel the pain that she did.

It had been six long months, but there had been no word from Peeta. She did not even know if he were alive or dead. Katniss was not Peeta's wife, so could not expect to be notified of his death. That would be sent to his family back home. She tried not to allow herself to picture Peeta lifeless on some foreign beach, but some days it seemed easier to think of him as dead than to accept that he had simply chosen to abandon her.

She could not bear to consider that it was Delly that he would return to, that it would be her that lay in Peeta's arms as he whispered that he loved her. Because however much Katniss hated him for leaving her, for not being there to shield her from the vicious tongues of the town gossips or to hold her hand through her pregnancy fears and tell her that everything would be alright, she still loved him. She could not hate him, not when he had given her the only thing she felt it worth getting up for some days. She ran her hand over the swollen crest of her stomach. In all this bleakness, the battered country filled with tired women and broken men, Peeta had given her something to live for, something to look forward to - the promise of new life that she carried within her, and it filled her with hope.

She had felt the dull ache beneath her belly all day, an uncomfortable stretching that at times left her breathless, but she was not due for another month and so was unprepared for the shock of her first true contraction. It took her breath away and she lost her footing on the muddy ground. She sank to her knees in the mud and clutched her stomach. She cried out for the one person she wanted to come and help her, and for the first time since that fateful day in the woods she let the tears come as she finally allowed herself to mourn the loss of him.

She made it home, clutching her stomach and stopping to lean on garden fences as she went to catch her breath. Her water broke just before she reached the house she shared with Annie. Annie sent the children from next door, one to fetch the district nurse as fast as they could and the other to find Primrose. By the time the nurse arrived on her bicycle, Annie had prepared everything she would need for the home birth and Primrose was holding Katniss' hand in a vain attempt to ease her sister's growing nerves.

"Won't be long and I'll be back here for you, eh, Mrs. O'Dair?" the nurse had said, placing her hand on Annie's bump before turning to Katniss.

"Right then, Katniss, let's have a look and see how far along you are."

The kindly woman had not meant any harm by it, but the contrast in the way she had addressed them meant something to Katniss. Either she did not warrant the polite convention of addressing her by her title, or the nurse had not wanted to remind her she was a Miss.

When the time came to push, the pain was more than she had expected. She had always thought she would be the kind to scream and shout, to curse everyone and everything, but instead the pain seemed to take away her ability to make any noise other than her pained grunts and the sound of her panting. Until, with one lone cry, it was done, and the room was filled with the cry of her new daughter.

The nurse put the baby straight to her breast and Katniss looked down with love and wonder at her child; with her fair colouring and blue eyes there seemed to be no question over her parentage.

Peeta might not have given her a band of gold, or a precious gem to wear on her finger, but he had given her something more.

So when the nurse had asked her if she had chosen a name for the baby, the choice seemed obvious. Hope.

* * *

**Notes**:

Thanks to Katnissinme for betaing and adding to this chapter.

Peeta's experience on the beach was a mish-mash of first hand accounts I read of men who survived the d-day landings.

I know Hope seems like a bit of a predictable overused name for their daughter but it just seemed to fit with the story.

Feel free to leave a review - it would be lovely to know if anyone out there is reading it!


	7. Chapter 7

**US Army Hospital, England, November 1944**

Peeta looked in the mirror. The soldier reflected there stared back at him, his weight resting on the stick in his hand. To any man in the street, he looked just like anyone else.

That was what frightened him the most, that people would expect him to be the same man he had been before. But he wasn't, and he wasn't sure he ever could be. The images of dying men covering the beaches still haunted him. Finn's empty eyes and the death rattle as he took his final breath were always there in his dreams.

Peeta had been in the military hospital for over six months. He had been a wreck when he had arrived, unrecognizable from the smart young man he viewed in the mirror now. His eye had been swollen closed from the bruising and the right side of his face had been black and blue where the helmet had hit him when it had blown off. It had taken a good number of weeks to get full use of his eye again. Peeta had learnt on the evacuation boat that the reason he could not stand was that shrapnel from the blast had hit both his legs. One the doctors had saved, the other they could not. The doctor had the gall to call him lucky, a below-the-knee amputation would make adapting to a prosthetic that much easier, he had been told. But he felt anything but lucky.

He also knew the change in him was more than just a physical one. He felt the darkness that had crept over him since the amputation, not just in his dreams, but in waking too, and it filled him with such an inexhaustible anger.

The hatred he had for the whole goddamned war, not just the Germans but the men who sat in power on both sides, moving troops about as if in some game to gain _victories_ at the cost of lives, burnt inside him. That someone like Finn had been robbed of his right to see his child grow up filled him with immense rage rather than sorrow. Peeta resented what the war had taken from him, too; it had stripped him of his hope, taken his future, and instead left him with ghosts and nightmares of what he'd witnessed.

At best his nights were sleepless, a preferred alternative to the visions that preyed on him when he closed his eyes. At his worst he fell into the depths of dark despair that cursed both his sleep and waking hours.

He knew he was not a pleasant person to be around. It was more than just not seeing the point in maintaining a polite façade that everything was okay; these days he was often just plain rude to everyone. It was actually amazingly liberating to turn his back on all the years his mother had drilled polite manners and good conduct into him and to finally tell people exactly what he thought of them. It may have seemed that he had a burning ambition to make the life of all those around him as miserable as he was, but in truth he couldn't care less whether people were insulted by him or not.

His anger didn't only manifest itself in his cold remarks and dark stares, but also took the form of furious outbursts. He hated the wheelchair, but when he first tired to walk with his prosthesis his frustration led him to smash the thing against the wall. "I never want to see that fucking thing again," he cursed as he hurled it to crash against the opposite wall. The false limb was ruined, and he was put back to the bottom of the waiting list to spite him for his unacceptable behaviour. He had to wait another month to be fitted for a new leg.

The night before he was to be fitted for his second prosthetic a nurse pulled him aside. Her northern accent was so strong that at times he found it hard to follow what she said. The nurse had told him there were rumours that they were planning to ship some of the wounded home soon. So, if he wanted out of this 'shit hole' as she'd heard him call it, he'd better get off his sorry arse as his best hope of getting out of here was if he could walk out that door.

He'd glowered at her, not wanting to listen to her lecture, but at the same time knowing what she said made sense. "And whilst you're at it," she had added, "Do us all a favour and keep that mouth of yours shut. Do you really think you're the only one here who's lost something? The only one who's angry and bitter? But the rest of us don't take it out on everyone else, we get on with it, 'keep smiling through,' as the song says, even if it is just on the outside. Otherwise we've as good as lost this war already."

Peeta had wanted to tell her where to stick her advice, but instead had given her a sneering smile. But the next day he'd kept his mouth shut and his angry thoughts to himself during rehabilitation training.

He also started to notice the men around him, some of whom he had shared a ward with since he'd arrived in the convalescent wing. He hadn't taken notice before because he hadn't cared, having no interest in them, but now he saw the camaraderie that the others had developed. He had known that others had lost limbs, but for the first time he really saw the injuries of the other soldiers and heard the screams in the night from their nightmares.

Peeta wanted out of here, he wanted to be done with this country and this war, but something still held him back.

He hadn't written to Katniss, although he composed the letters in his head every day, and the internal fight raged within him each day as to whether he would try to contact her before he left.

What did he have to offer her now? He was not the man she had fallen in love with. He was a broken man with a broken body and she was better off without him. If Katniss had done as she had promised and told Gale he was to be a father, then perhaps they were already married.

But what if Gale was dead and she and the baby were left with no one to support them? Could he really leave them alone? He had to know.

The idea to telephone the local post office came to him as he had lain awake one night. In a town that small, everyone knew everyone else's business, and the post office would be sure to know at least if there had been any name changes. But it had still been two months since he had first had the idea and he had yet to build up enough courage to act on it.

He walked with difficulty, still not entirely comfortable with his prosthetic, down to the lobby where there was a telephone booth for the soldiers' use. Dropping the coins into the slot he asked the operator to connect him to the number he required.

It seemed strange, after all these months, to hear the familiar accent of the district as the postmaster's wife answered.

The lies came easily enough to him, after all he had formulated them months ago and had run this scenario through his head a hundred times since. He had been overseas, he told the woman, and wanted to know if he had missed a friend's wedding or whether he still had time to send a gift. "A local couple, perhaps you could help me?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "What are their names?"

"Everdeen," he said, surprised by how hard it was to say Katniss' surname, not even attempting to say her first name, sure that his voice would give his ruse away.

"Oh yes," she replied. "Miss Everdeen and Mr. Hawthorne, such a handsome young couple. No, it's not too late to send a present, why they aren't even back from their honeymoon yet. They're spending a week by the seaside. Would you like me to pass on a message?" she asked. But he was unable to continue his act any longer and without answering he hung up.

He sat for some time in the booth, physically unable to move, until someone knocked on the glass wanting to use the telephone.

He returned to his ward and stopped to look at himself in the mirror. Again he saw no outward change. But he felt as if the anger he had been carrying since the amputation had been drained out of him; he was too exhausted to carry it around any more. He was ready to go home.

* * *

**Notes**:

Okay so not the happy chapter that some of you were hoping for! But stick with me its not all doom and gloom for the rest of the story (just a wee bit more maybe!).

Thank you to everyone who has left reviews on this story, I really really appreciate all your encouraging comments. Sometimes its just really weird to work hard on a story and post it, then sit back and wonder if there's really anyone out there actually reading it, so all your reviews are very welcome its great to know that you are enjoying it.

Thank you again to Katnissinme who put a lot of time and effort in to betaing this story.

Song referred to is **"We'll Meet Again"** written by Ross Parker and Hughie Charles in 1939, the song was made popular during the war by British singer Vera Lynn's 1942 recording.

_"We'll meet again _

_Don't know where _

_Don't know when _

_But I know we'll meet again_

_Some sunny day _

_Keep smiling through_

_Just like you always do _

_'Till the blue skies _

_Drive the dark clouds far __away"_

p.s. Sorry if some of you felt that the confrontation between Katniss and Gale was not quite as explosive as it could have been. But I didn't want to dwell on it too much. Promises and Plans was essentially supposed to be a short story (that kind of got a bit out of hand) and so I didn't really want to stray too much from the relationship between the main couple. Maybe it was a little rushed for Gale to be prepared to be friends by the next day, but I like to think that once he'd called her every name under the sun, gone home and stewed on it for 24 hours, perhaps listened to a few wise words from this mother - that he would have seen Katniss' situation for what it was. That she was alone and pregnant, with the daunting prospect of dealing with small town gossip and an illegitimate birth. That she faced the lonely reality of bringing up a child on her own at a time when people were less than accepting of the situation. And that Gale surely matured by his experiences in the war would have been man enough to offer her a hand of friendship. Not necessarily best buds or anything but someone who would be there if she really needed his help. (in hindsight perhaps I should have written all that into the story!) I also didn't want to vilify Gale in an argument as he hasn't actually done anything wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

**America, May 1946**

Peeta had taken his uniform off as soon as he had reached home. He had packed it in a box and put it up in the attic. He knew that Delly had been a little disappointed – he suspected that she had looked forward to the idea of being paraded around on the arm of a serviceman. Without the uniform, he was just a cripple.

He and Delly had tried when he had got back but he had overheard his mother and Mrs. Cartwright talking one day_**.**_ Delly's mother was telling her how Delly had arrived home in tears again. The girl just couldn't understand Peeta's mood swings, she had said. His mother had rather curtly told the other woman her son had just got back from war where he had seen god knows what, so what did the girl expect. But then, with a resigned sigh, she had told Mrs. Cartwright that she heard her son's screams and nightmares every night, and that Delly would need to be patient if she still wanted to be his wife.

After that, Peeta moved out of his home and into the flat above the bakery, where his parents had first lived when they had been married. He broke it off with Delly soon after. She shed a few tears, but he wondered if she weren't secretly relieved. He heard she had started dating someone else not long after and he found the news did not upset him.

When he was younger, he had never harboured any great desire to work in the family business, content to leave that up to his older brothers. Since returning from the pacific his eldest brother, John, had expressed a wish to become a doctor and was leaving for college in the autumn. Luke, however, seemed content to stay at home, working in the bakery now and then but mainly just happy to drift, happy to be alive. Peeta knew his brother's lack of direction worried his mother, but his father was just happy to have him home.

Peeta, on the other hand, discovered that he enjoyed working in the bakery kitchen. He found the tactile work – kneading the dough, shaping the bread, decorating the cakes – hugely therapeutic. He found it a much healthier release than the painting that the army psychologist had suggested. Rather than help with the nightmares, he found that they were merely brought to life in his artwork. The twisted metal of the tanks on the beach, the distorted bodies of men that lay dying, the lifeless eyes that stared at him at night, immortalized on canvas to haunt him during the day as well as in sleep.

He had read in the papers about VE day, and then VJ day, but did not join in any celebrations, only relieved that it had meant the return of his brothers, both physically unharmed.

When he read in the papers about the first boatload of war brides that had arrived in the US from England, he knew that there was a way that he might be able to lay one of his ghosts to rest. He had obtained Finn's family's address not long after he had returned home, but had not had the courage to do anything with it. Peeta knew he had delayed his promise for too long.

Peeta had had no idea Finn was from a wealthy background until he saw the O'Dair family home. The family of Irish decent had made their money in the manufacture of sugared confectionery at the turn of the century, with later generations becoming involved in local politics. Finn had grown up in a huge, rolling mansion of a home next to the sea, where his mother and three of his five sisters still lived. They had welcomed Peeta with open arms. Finn's mother had cried as he had recounted Finn's last words, and the promise he had made Peeta swear. Mrs. O'Dair had shown him Finn's last letter home. In it, he had told his mother all about Annie and how they were to be married. Mrs. O'Dair did not need to know that the tears Peeta shed on reading it were ones of shame that he had been too much of a coward to send a similar letter home about Katniss. He was certain his mother would not have been as delighted by the news of a grandchild as Mrs. O'Dair seemed to be.

"You must bring them to us, Peeta," she had said clasping his hand. "They need to be with family."

The arrangements had been hastily made, all the correct paperwork rushed through with the help of the O'Dair's connections and a good deal of money going into the right pockets. It was not long before Peeta had found himself returning to England once more, this time by air.

Enquiries had been made in advance and Annie located; she had moved to a small village some distance from the market town where they had lived. Peeta could not decide if this was a blessing or not. He would not have to see Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne if he chose not to. The thought of them, and the possibility that his child called Gale _daddy_, was more than he could stomach.

He hired a car and drove to Annie's, stopping to ask directions at the village. It was a pretty little house, a lovely place to raise a child, but very secluded, and he wondered whether they were lonely here.

As Peeta opened the gate and walked towards the house he noticed a pram sat in the shade under the eaves by the open front door. Curiosity took over as he stepped forward to look at the child. The toddler, almost too large for the pram, lay fast asleep, blond curls escaping from its knitted bonnet. Tears stung at his eyes as he calculated the months, and wondered if this was what Katniss' child looked like. He stroked the little blond curl gently and then the hand that lay beside the child's head. The child's fist curled tightly around his finger, and when he removed it from its grasp the infant awoke. It blinked a few times before it started to cry out for its mummy. He heard the mother call out to her child as she made her way to the front door. But it wasn't Annie who appeared in the doorway, it was Katniss. She froze in mid-action of wiping her floury hands on her apron. He felt the same shock he saw in her face. He tried to speak but he could not get the words out, and she turned and ran back into the house, crashing into Annie as she came to the door to see why no one had attended to the now wailing infant.

"Peeta!" Annie seemed surprised to see him although he had sent a letter ahead of him to let her know he would be coming.

"Katniss," he finally managed to say, trying to make for the door, but Annie stopped him. "Wait," she said, "there are some things you need to know first."

She scooped up the crying child and hugged it to her, hushing and calming softly as she led him to the garden bench.

"Is Gale here?" he asked.

"No." Annie looked perplexed, "Should he be?"

"Aren't they…didn't they get married?"

"Katniss and Gale?" she shook her head. "No, why would you think that?"

"I checked, they told me that Miss Everdeen and Mr. Hawthorne were on honeymoon."

Annie's face filled with sorrow. "That was Primrose and Rory, Gale's brother. They got married not long after her sixteenth birthday. They had always been smitten with each other. Nothing would talk them out of the wedding, although Katniss tried. They were killed on their honeymoon. A stray luftwaffe, unloading its unused bombs after a raid before it headed back over the channel. They were both killed outright, they'd only been married for four days."

"Oh, my god."

"After the birth, Katniss had the baby blues pretty badly for a few months, then just when she seemed to be coming out of it Primrose and Rory were killed. She hasn't been the same since. She still has bad days even now."

"And Gale? I thought they were going to be married?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Katniss, she told me."

"He did ask, when he got home and found Katniss pregnant. But he wasn't quite so keen when she told him about you. He said rather eloquently that he wasn't prepared to raise the bastard of some fucking yank she'd been screwing around with behind his back. I don't believe she would have married him anyway, even if he had been more accepting. But it hasn't been easy for her though, before or after the birth. People can be very cruel in their judgment of unmarried mothers."

"So, Katniss lives here with you?" Annie nodded. "But you didn't tell her I was coming, did you?"

"She would never have agreed to meet you. But I don't think a child should grow up without its father, not if there's a choice." And she looked wistfully at the toddler.

"This is…," Peeta stared speechless at the child in Annie's lap.

"Yes, Peeta. This is your daughter, Hope."

She offered the toddler out to him and hesitantly he took her onto his lap, afraid that he would make her cry again. But she seemed perfectly at ease and began to pull off her socks. He turned her so that he could better look at her and Hope offered him one of her socks with a chubby grin. He found himself smiling back, and in that moment Hope succeeded in managing what no other person had since his return from the war. With the warm innocence of her smile, he felt a swell of love that promised to unlock the part of him he had kept guarded and fill his empty heart.

Looking at Hope was like looking at the photograph that used to hang in his grandmother's house of her three grandsons. Peeta had been a baby at the time, propped precariously on his brother John's knee. He saw himself in his daughter's face, but as he looked closer he saw Katniss, too. Hope had her beautiful eyes.

"And you," he asked after sometime, "did you have a girl or a boy?"

"A boy, I named him after his father," Annie said quietly.

Peeta looked back to where the Pram stood against the house. "Little Finny is asleep inside." Annie said in answer to his gaze. "Hope settles for her afternoon naps better when she is outside. Just as wild as her mother, this one." She tickled Hope under the chin, making her laugh.

"They want to meet you, you know, Finn's family. They're desperate to see you both. It's true what I said in my letter. It was Finn's dying wish, he wanted so much to know that you would be cared for, that you would not be alone."

"I'm not alone, Katniss is here. I could never leave her," she said. "Unless, of course, she agreed to come with us," she added with a small smile. "Talk to her, Peeta. She won't say it, but I know she still cares for you."

Peeta found Katniss in her bedroom, her back to him, looking out of the window. He swallowed, not sure what to say.

"Hope is a beautiful name."

Kaniss turned, crossing the room quickly. Peeta did not try to dodge the slap as he saw her hand come toward him; he felt he deserved it and worse.

"I mourned you! I thought you were dead," she accused. "You said you would come back for me."

"You left me, remember?" he said suddenly, feeling just as angry. "You left me in the woods. You said you never wanted to see me again."

"I thought you would follow me. You said you loved me, you said you would come back."

"I called. They said there had been a wedding. I thought that you and Gale were married. It's what you said you were going to do, otherwise I would have come back."

"Would you?" she asked pointedly, and he knew she was right to doubt him.

"I … I don't know. I was a broken man. I had nothing to offer you," he answered truthfully.

"I didn't need anything, I just needed you," she cried, the rage from a few moments ago quickly turning to anguish.

"I wasn't the same person, I'm still not. I still see them every night, the faces of the men on the beach dead and dying. I scare my family with my screams." He didn't know why he told her, it was if he wanted her to agree with him, to prove that he was right to doubt himself worthy of her love.

"I haven't had an unbroken night's sleep since the day Primrose died," she answered sadly.

"We can keep each other company in the night then," he said quietly, looking into her eyes.

She kissed him, unexpectedly crushing her lips to his and he had to steady himself with a hand on her shoulder. Before he had a chance to respond she pulled away from him just as abruptly. She stood frozen to the spot, her hand to her mouth, stunned by her own actions.

"I still love you, Katniss. The thought of seeing you was the only thing that kept me alive. Will you…do you think you can ever forgive me?"

She shook her head in confusion, "I… I thought I'd never see you again," sounding close to tears. He pulled her close and she let her head fall to rest against his chest as he wrapped his arms protectively about her.

"Shhhh. I'm here. I'm here now," Peeta tried to soothe her as he gently stroked her hair. He bent his head to press a kiss to the top of her head and for the first time in a long while Peeta felt truly at peace.

"I can…I want to forgive you," she said looking up at him, "its just…you'll need to be patient with me. I need some time." Peeta smiled as he remembered his mother's advice for Delly.

"We have all the time in the world, " he said, "just marry me first."

* * *

**NOTES:**

Victory in Europe (VE) day 7 May 1945

Victory in Japan (VJ) day 15 August 1945 (2 September official treaty signing)

4 February 1946 first boatload of war brides arrives in US from England


	9. Chapter 9

**America, September 1946**

Katniss moved into the O'Dair's house with Annie when they arrived. Peeta came out to see them every weekend and, as much as he hoped it were otherwise, he accepted that for the time being this was the way it had to be. At least it gave him some time each week with Hope. No matter what mood he was in, it lightened as soon as he saw her run to him with an excited cry of "daddy, daddy." Although he suspected that part of her enthusiasm was due to the cookies he always brought with him from the bakery. But he didn't care. One of the best parts of his week was when he would pretend that Hope had pushed him down on the sofa and she would search his coat pockets for the paper bag she knew was hidden there. Peeta would shake his head and teasingly protest that he didn't have anything with him that week. They would both laugh as she persisted in her hunt until, finally successful, she would sit on his knee as she ate one of the treats the bag contained.

He had been surprised that when Hope had started to call him "Peetuh," copying the adults, that Katniss had told Hope to call him Daddy. The first time he heard her call him that, he had to discreetly wipe away his tears.

Peeta was grateful that Katniss had not stood in his way of getting to know his daughter. Katniss would have been fully entitled to be resistant to his visits with Hope – after all, he had all but turned his back on them both – but instead she let them have their time together every was always there keeping a watchful eye on them, but she tended to stick to the background, understanding that this time was important for them both. He wished that sometimes she would join in his play with Hope, but he was just thankful that she was here.

He was aware Katniss had in part agreed to come to America for Annie, knowing that her friend refused to leave without her, and for both their children's futures. But he was still surprised by how easily she had been persuaded; in all the time they had been together she had never expressed a desire to leave England and her home, but with her sister gone it seemed there were no ties left to hold her.

Their wedding had been a quiet, rushed affair at the local registry office. Peeta had asked if she would like to wait until her mother could get time off of work to attend, but Katniss had shaken her head no. And in the end they were married with just Annie and a passerby off the street as witnesses.

Annie later explained that there was little love lost between Katniss and her mother. Their relationship, at its best, had been strained since the death of her father, Katniss having to bear the responsibility of keeping the household together and raising her little sister whilst her mother devoted her time to nursing. The relationship had been further damaged when Mrs Everdeen's reaction had been less than sympathetic to the news of Katniss' pregnancy. And then, after Primrose's death, her mother had thrown herself into her work, taking a job in an army hospital up north at around the same time Katniss had moved in with Annie. Since then, the mother-daughter relationship had been practically non-existent.

The hurried marriage was to a large extent one of convenience and formality, rushed through to enable the paperwork to be cleared for Katniss and Hope's entrance to the states. The relationship he prayed they could rebuild he understood, would have to come later. But when the registrar had stated _'you may now kiss the bride'_, Peeta had let his lips linger on hers until she had pulled away.

Katniss had asked for time and he had promised to respect her wish. His insecurities meant that part of him was happy to keep his distance, worried that upon discovering the full extent of his nightmares and injuries she would change her mind about coming to America with him as his bride. He knew it was vain, but he had always been confident enough about his looks and had not been concerned about what Katniss would think of him naked. But he was painfully aware that had all changed, and he no longer possessed such confidence.

Peeta knew Katniss had seen the way he needed to grip the chair arm to haul himself up from the floor after playing with Hope. She had even caught a glimpse of his prosthetic when his trouser leg had hitched up once or twice. But he did not look forward to the moment when she would finally see him. He was not sure what he feared more – that she would be repulsed or that she would pity him.

So after the wedding tea the five of them had shared at the cottage, when the children had been put to bed and Annie had made an excuse to retire early, he had said goodnight, returning to the room above the local pub where he was lodging, the landlord none the wiser that Peeta had married that day. Peeta had thought he saw a brief look of surprise in Katniss' eyes when he bid her goodnight, but if she were disappointed she had hidden it well and had not tried to persuade him to stay the night.

He had to take heart in the fact that she had said she wanted to forgive him and that she had agreed to come to America, even if that had been as much for Annie's sake as anyone else's. And that when he had told Katniss he still loved her, though she had not responded that she loved him, she hadn't said that she didn't either.

He understood that his long absence had hurt her and he had some way to go in regaining her trust, but still he hoped that in time they could be the way they had once been.

Like himself, Peeta sensed that Katniss had changed. He had noticed the differences in her when he had first returned to England. She was a little quieter than before, and there was a weariness about her, as if some of the fight had been knocked out of her. But during his last few visits to the O'Dairs, he had felt that there had been a shift; she seemed a little brighter and her laugh more animated. He found Katniss just as captivating as she had ever been, and he found himself drawn to watching her when she was unaware. He noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at Hope, the beautiful sound as her laughter rang out, and he took pleasure in knowing that she was happy. He also saw the way her thin frame had begun to fill out since she had arrived in America, and he found himself imagining what it would be like to hold her, to kiss her, and to feel her body move against his again.

Peeta found himself living for each Sunday when he would see them both, his daughter and the woman he still loved.

He found it exhausting, though, foregoing his only day off of the week to make the three-hour drive to the ocean and back, not returning home until late the same night. After the fourth Sunday in a row that he had fallen asleep in the easy chair while reading Hope and little Finn a story, Katniss took him aside.

"This isn't working, Peeta, you're too tired. You can't keep coming out here like this every week." His heart had sunk at her words.

"I'm okay. Just a little tired, it's nothing," he said, not caring that he sounded desperate.

Peeta had not expected her to respond by saying, "I think it's time Hope and I came back with you."

It felt like that day in the meadow, when Katniss had agreed to marry him. Only this time, the newfound uncertainty in their relationship inhibited him from picking her up and swinging her around, so instead he just nodded and said he would really like that.

He spent every evening the week before they arrived fixing up the spare room for them both. Even his mother came around with new curtains she had made and the crib from the attic that he and his brothers had slept in, his father having given it a fresh coat of paint.

On Saturday, as they closed the shop, his father told him to come in late on Monday morning and that Luke would cover his early shift.

He had not expected a welcome committee to greet them when they arrived at the bakery late Sunday afternoon. His father gave him an apologetic look, with a slight nod toward his wife, indicating that it had been Peeta's mother's doing. He should have guessed his mother would not have been able to wait to meet her new daughter-in-law.

Peeta introduced his parents and brothers, begrudging their intrusion on what he felt should have been a private moment with _his_ family. He gritted his teeth when his mother began to quiz Katniss. He didn't want a fight with his mother right there in front of her, but at the same time he didn't want his mother's questions to make Katniss regret her decision to live with him before she had even set foot in the apartment. He cursed his mother's talent for making even the most innocent of phrases sound like an insult. _How had Katniss found her stay in America so far?_ – making it sound like it was a temporary holiday. _How was her mother coping with not having Katniss and Hope at home?_ – almost implying that Katniss had abandoned her. _Why had she picked the name Hope, was it a family name?_ – conveying the impression that she did not like the name. _What exactly were you _hoping_ for, dear?_ When she moved on to ask how they had met, he knew it was time to stop the conversation before his mother probed too far.

Katniss and he had agreed early on that it would be best that they not disclose the fact that Hope's parentage had been in question, or that permission for them to marry had been declined. Instead, they had agreed to tell his family that Katniss had not realised she was pregnant until after he had shipped out, and that they had lost contact until he had returned to England. His family didn't need to know the real truth, all they needed to know was that they were together now.

Peeta took Hope in his arms and apologized for having to break up the party, but it was getting late and it was time for Hope's teatime. Unfortunately, it meant promising his mother that they would come for Sunday brunch next week.

He had been worried that Katniss would find the apartment small and cramped after the luxury of the O'Dair's home. But she said it was lovely and thanked him for making her and Hope's room so nice.

They had put Hope to bed, both kissing her goodnight, and the comfortable familiarity of the scene made it feel as if their little family had always been like this. But once Hope's light was off and the door was closed, they stood in awkward silence in the hallway. Peeta was conscious that it was the first time they had been truly alone without company or Hope to act as a buffer.

He was going to offer to make them both a drink, but Katniss spoke first.

"It's been a long day and I'm tired. I think I'd like to have a bath and turn in early," she said, "if that's alright, I mean, to have a bath."

"Oh, of course, you don't need to ask. This is your home too now," and for the first time since he had moved in, he realized that the apartment genuinely felt like a home.

Peeta poured himself a drink and sat in the lounge listening to the radio, trying hard to pretend he wasn't thinking about her in the bathtub. Katniss must have been able to hear the music, as when he got up to fix himself another drink he heard the sound of her singing coming from the bathroom. He stood in the small hallway listening to her, gratified that she sounded so relaxed and happy, until he heard the water gurgling down the plug hole and hurried back to his seat, not wanting to be caught loitering near the bathroom.

She appeared moments later, her skin slightly flushed from the bath, looking a little self-conscious as she stood in her nightdress, her damp hair brushed out over her shoulders.

"I…er… just wanted to say goodnight before I turned in."

He wasn't sure whether he should get up from his seat to kiss her or not. If he had stood closer then he might have leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but he feared getting up from his seat and crossing the room to kiss her would make it seem like too grand a gesture and he did not want to make the situation anymore uncomfortable for her.

So he merely replied, "Goodnight, Katniss, I'll see you in the morning."

And as he fell asleep that night, he did so content that he would see his family there with him in the morning when he woke.

_He kept trying to wipe the blood out of his eyes, but it was flowing too quickly, blinding him. He wiped frantically with both his hands and when, finally, he could see clearly again, he saw that it was not his blood at all, but rather it flowed from the bodies that were piled on top of him. The dead weight of their lifeless limbs pinned him down as he struggled to free himself. The medics were going to pass him by, consigning him to the dead, and he knew that he would never escape, he would never get to see Katniss' face again. He screamed for someone to save him but no one could hear him, until he heard her voice. In a fog at first, but then growing clearer._

"Peeta, Peeta. It's not real, Peeta, you're safe, you're here with me."

He struggled at first, his body constricted as if he had been bound, until finally he sat upright, his legs untangled from the sheets that had become wound around him as he thrashed.

"Peeta." Katniss put her hand to his face; she looked upset, but not frightened, to have witnessed the episode.

"I'm sorry," he said in a shaky voice, his breathing not yet calmed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright," she soothed, "I wasn't asleep."

She laid down beside him and he pulled the sheets up over them.

"Is it always the same dream?" she asked.

"More or less," He did not tell her what form his nightmare took, and she did not push for more details. How could he tell her that the worst dreams were not the ones where he awoke with a gasp of relief to discover that it was not real, but the ones where he awoke with a devastated sob to discover that his dream was untrue? The dreams in which he had never been on that beach, Finn had not died, he had not lost his leg and he still had the love of the only girl that he had ever truly wanted.

"My dreams about Prim are always the same," she admitted quietly. "I see the bombs falling. I try to call out to her, to run, but I'm never fast enough and I have to watch her burn."

He wrapped his arm around her and she laid her head on his chest. He had thought so many times over the last few months about how it would feel to hold her in his arms again, and while he had hoped it would be under different circumstances, it still felt good. Eventually he felt her body relax, her gentle breath on his skin, and he joined her in sleep soon after.

When he woke, he was alone in his bed, and he almost wondered if he had imagined last night**. **On rising, he found Katniss in the kitchen feeding Hope breakfast.

"Sorry, we made a bit of a mess." Katniss apologised, trying to clean Hope with a wet cloth.

"It's okay," he said laughing as he watched his daughter's look of disgust as her mother tired to wash the mess off of her face. On hearing him, Hope laughed back. Such a wonderful sound that seemed alien in the apartment. He realized that it was probably the first laughter to have been heard there since he had moved in.

"I have to get to work," he said. "I was going to grab a shower, unless you need to use the bathroom."

She shook her head. "You go ahead – I'll wash after you've gone."

When he was ready to leave for work, Katniss was changing Hope in their bedroom. He hovered in the doorway, regretting that he had to go. "It looks like it's going to be a sunny day out. Come see me before you go out and I'll point you in the direction of the park." She smiled and nodded, and he wished again that his father didn't need him in the bakery.

Peeta spent the rest of the morning with a smile on his face thinking of _his girls_ upstairs. His mood didn't go unnoticed by Luke. Peeta knew his brother would think it was the result of something much more than the chaste embrace that he and Katniss had shared last night, but he did not care, last night had been much more than he could have hoped for.

When Katniss came through the shop with Hope he helped her with the pram. He was sure she was just as aware as him that all the customers were watching and whispering, sure to report to their friends that they had seen the baker's son's new wife and child. As he held Hope in his arms, he was glad that at least the gossips could not question that she was his daughter with her shock of blond curls.

"I'll make us sandwiches and we'll have lunch when you get back," he said after giving Katniss directions to the park. As he held the door open for her, she stood up on tiptoes and in front of everyone in the shop kissed him softly on the cheek.

Peeta felt like a schoolboy with his first crush as he walked back behind the counter, aware even before his brother pointed it out that his cheeks were red.

When he climbed the stairs to the apartment after work that night, it was like entering a different world. He was met at the door by Hope as she rushed to him with her usual shriek of excitement, her arms outstretched to be picked up. His ordinarily sterile, quiet apartment smelt wonderfully of dinner, and toys were strewn across the floor where Hope had been at play. Katniss was at the stove, stirring whatever was producing the mouthwatering smell. She turned to give him an apologetic smile, while telling Hope to let her father sit down first and warning him to watch his step over her toys. He shook his head and told her it was okay, while marveling at how much their presence had altered his life in such a short time.

He felt his chest tighten and he wished he could comfortably convey the emotions he felt at that moment, to say how much it truly meant to have them there with him, to know that he would see them both everyday. Instead, he lifted Hope to his lap as he sat at the table, listening to her babble about the toy she held. He kissed her blond curls, and then, on lifting his gaze, caught Katniss watching them together; he thought he saw something in her eyes that he had been afraid to hope to see again.

That night she woke him from his nightmares again before she slipped into his bed and waiting arms to sleep.

The third night when he came out of the bathroom he found her on his bed in her nightgown.

"I thought I could either wait until the middle of the night again, or I could just join you now," she said.

His heart leapt, but at the same time he wished he had been in bed first before she had come to him. He took a seat on the opposite side of the bed with his back to her. Raising his pajama leg he unstrapped his prosthetic.

He felt the bed dip as she crawled across it to kneel behind him. She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders as she pleaded.

"Please, Peeta, you don't need to hide from me."

He nodded wordlessly, but he pushed his trouser leg down quickly before bending to tuck the prosthetic under the edge of the bed. He knew it would be easier to prop it against the bedside table, but he hated that it would then be the first thing he saw when he woke in the morning.

"Come to bed," she said softly as she moved toward the pillows and pulled back the covers. He turned off the bedside lamp and moved to lie beside her. He could just make out her silhouette in the dark, but not her features.

"I never stopped loving you," she said quietly, "even when I hated you and I wished I could stop caring about you. If I couldn't stop loving you then, when I wanted to, do you really think that your leg is going to stop me now?"

He had been hoping and waiting to hear this, but it still caught him by surprise how much it meant to hear her say that she still loved him. Before he could react or respond, though, she was kissing him.

He kissed her back, hoping that somehow his kiss would convey just how much he loved her.

Their hands began to move over each other's bodies, removing the barriers of clothing that stood between them, reacquainting themselves with the curves and lines that made up the landscape of the other. It was warm and familiar, but with the nervous excitement of a first time. Her hands grabbed his buttocks, pulling his weight to her, and he felt his length slide against her where she was wet with arousal for him. His mouth found her breast as she bucked against him and he entered her, moaning her name on her skin. Their hands and mouths became greedy for each other as his thrusts became deeper, until at last he felt her body tense and she cried out to him. He followed soon after, the sound of his name in her final moments all he needed to find his own release.

Peeta woke with a disoriented feeling although he was in his own room. It took him a moment to realise it was because he had slept straight through to morning. It was the first night he could remember in a long time where he had not woken from a nightmare. Katniss lay next to him on her stomach, one arm tucked beneath the pillow. He thought about last night and a broad grin spread across his face; his body hummed to think about the way she had moved beneath him.

He slipped from the covers as gently as he could, careful not to wake her. Sitting on the edge of the bed he retrieved his prosthetic and slowly strapped it on, glancing behind him to make sure he had not woken her. He did not want her to wake – despite her words he was not ready for her to see him yet. He grabbed the clothes he needed and headed to the bathroom to change.

Katniss was awake when he came out. She smiled sleepily. "Is it time to get up?"

He shook his head, "I have to get to work, but it's early and Hope is still asleep. Why don't you rest for a bit longer?"

Coming to sit on the edge of the bed, he stroked her hair back from her face and she smiled up at him. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I love you," he whispered in her ear. She gazed up at him and her smile spread lazily across her face. "I love you too, Peeta."

The grin on Peeta's face did not wear off all morning. He saw his father giving him sideways glances and Luke, less subtly, clapped him on the back and commented that it must have been a good night. Peeta just laughed. He could not help but agree with his brother – it had been the best night.

…~…

When Peeta left for work Katniss stayed in bed until Hope woke, thinking about the night before. When she had decided to share Peeta's bed it had not been her intention to take things so far. When she had kissed him, she had merely wanted to show him that he didn't have to hide from her, that it wouldn't stop her from loving him. But when he had kissed her back it had awoken all the old desires that she had for him, it had felt so good to be in his arms again.

When Peeta had first shown up at Annie's she had wanted to hate him. To know that he had been alive all that time and never come back for her, never wanted to know about their child, filled her with such anger. But even then, she had known that it only hurt so badly because she loved him so much.

He had looked so worn, so tired that first day. The easy-going, laughing boy she had known didn't seem to exist any more, replaced by a man made hollow by the war. But over time, she had seen that some of the boy still survived. During the weeks they had spent in England preparing the paperwork for America, and then during the weekends at the O'Dairs, she had seen how he came alive when he was with Hope. She found she could not feel jealous of the bond the two quickly developed. His face would break into a wide smile the moment he saw Hope, and Katniss loved to see the two of them laughing and giggling together.

But Katniss had seen how tired he was, falling asleep during Hope's bedtime week after week. It had seemed like the right time to come home with him. Besides, she never felt fully at ease amongst the grandeur of the O'Dair home, and she did not want to overstay her welcome.

She told herself that she was moving in with Peeta for Hope's sake, just as she had when she had agreed to come to America. Growing up, Katniss had been blessed with a happy childhood with a loving father, and she did not want to deny her daughter the chance to have the same. But she also knew that there was something else that swayed her decision. She had seen the way Peeta looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She saw the spark in his blue eyes as he watched her, and it made her think of the way they had been. It made her remember how it felt to have him look down at her with lust-filled eyes as he moved inside her.

Still, she had not thought herself ready to know him like that again until last night. When they had found each other and reclaimed the other's body in the dark, it had felt like she had finally come home.

She could not hide the satisfied grin that was fixed to her face as she entered the bakery from the back stairs. When she caught Peeta's eye, she noticed he wore a similar smile and it made her blush. He rushed to get Hope's pram for her from where it was stored out back, and when their hands touched as she was putting Hope into the pram they exchanged a look that told her he was thinking about last night just as much as she was.

The bell jingled on the shop door and she looked up as a young woman entered. "Oh," the woman said, a look of surprise as her eyes moved over the scene of their small family, before recovering quickly to give them a dazzling smile. "Hello, Peeta."

"Delly." Peeta sounded just as surprised to see her, "It's…um…good to see you." Then, after an awkward pause, he added, "This is Katniss, my wife, and our daughter, Hope."

"Oh! She's just beautiful!" Delly gushed "She looks just like that picture of you that your grandmother used to have on her wall, remember?"

Peeta laughed and they exchanged a few more pleasantries, but Katniss wasn't really listening anymore. She made an excuse about Hope needing a nap in the pram and Peeta held the door open for her. She looked back at the shop from the other side of the street; through the window she could still clearly see Peeta and Delly talking. The other woman laughed as her hand rested on Peeta's forearm.

Katniss wanted to run back in the shop and slap Delly's hand right off of him. She didn't want her to touch him. Not now, not ever. But they had been engaged, he had been hers originally. They had a history together; Delly had once been part of his family and she knew things about him that Katniss could not even guess at. But, Katniss thought, he was her Peeta now, and if Delly thought she could just come in and flash her smile and toss her hair and have him back she had another thing coming.

But as she watched them together, both so blond and so beautiful, Katniss did not feel so confident about her hold on him. She had not been expecting Delly to be so stunning. She had once asked Peeta what Delly looked like – he had just shrugged and said she was blond. He had not said she had glamorous wavy hair that fell down around her shoulders, a smile that could stop traffic, and curves that men would die for. Delly fitted the description "blond bombshell" perfectly. Katniss looked down at herself. She wore clothes that she felt comfortable in – casual slacks and a simple blouse – and her hair was tied back in a plain braid. Whilst Katniss knew that she had put on some weight since she had arrived, she was never going to fill out her clothes the way Delly naturally did. She could not compete with her; they might as well be two different species.

Thoughts of Delly and Peeta filled her head, spoiling her mood for the rest of the day. Hope picked up on her emotions and was unsettled, finally going down to sleep several hours later than her normal bedtime.

Peeta sat up in bed, already changed into the pajama trousers and t-shirt that he wore for sleep, his legs tucked under the covers, when Katniss came out of the bathroom in her nightgown. He lifted the covers for her to slip in next to him. He had picked up on her mood. She had snapped that everything was okay when he had questioned her about it earlier, and he had been wise enough not to mention it again.

Peeta turned off the bedside light and lay next to her. Tucking her beneath his arm. She closed her eyes, listening to the gentle rhythm of his breathing, but she was too tightly wound to sleep. Sitting up she reached across him to turn on the lamp.

"Are you ok?" he asked, looking up at her with concern.

She moved to sit astride him and he gave her a questioning look.

"Why didn't you tell me Delly was so beautiful?" she accused bitterly.

She saw a look of panic on his face and she wondered if he had realised that no matter what he said he was unlikely to placate her.

"Um.. Delly's just Delly, I guess. I didn't really think about it."

"But you do think she's beautiful don't you?"

"I…er…I don't know?" The fact that his answer sounded more like a question just infuriated her more.

"Yes you do, you either find her attractive or you don't," she pressed angrily.

When he didn't answer quickly enough for her liking, Katniss gave an angry huff. "I'm going to sleep in the other room," she snorted, and made to dismount him, but Peeta grabbed her waist and held her in place.

"I don't know what this is about, but seriously, I am not interested in Delly," he said firmly.

"Really?" she said sarcastically, not believing that could be true.

"Really." Peeta sounded angry now. "Yes, she is beautiful, everyone knows she's beautiful, Delly included. But am I still attracted to her? No. Have I been attracted to you since the first moment I saw you? Yes."

Not wanting to believe him or listen to him, Katniss tried again to move off of his lap but he held her tight.

"Look at me. You are the most amazingly beautiful creature I've ever meet," he laughed, "from the moment I saw you covered in dirt, crawling your way out of a bush, I knew I was a goner."

She stopped trying to fight him, but he didn't release his hold on her.

"When you got back… did you and Delly…did you sleep with her?"

"No," he said, serious now, shaking his head "There's only ever been you, Katniss, and I don't ever want there to be anyone else but you."

"Good_**." **_He smiled, not missing the possessive tone of her voice. His hands slid over her bare thighs where her nightdress had bunched up as she straddled him.

In one swift, bold move she pulled her nightdress over her head, leaving herself bare to him.

He swore, his eyes raking over the body that had been under his hands last night in the dark. "You're so beautiful."

And this time she believed him. She shivered as his hands ran up her sides to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples before he took them between his fingers. She gasped, arching herself into his hands. She shifted her weight so she could feel him hard though his pajamas, pressed against where she wanted him.

He let out a low guttural moan. Emboldened by his response, she leant forward to push up his t-shirt. "Take your clothes off," she ordered. He pulled his t-shirt off before lifting his hips to push down his trousers. She raised herself on her knees to give him room to push them down.

He tried to stop her as she moved down his body, pushing the covers aside. But she had no intention of stopping. Her hands covered his where he held her tight. "Please, Peeta," she appealed, and he reluctantly released his grip, but he looked pained to do so. She ran her hands over his thick, strong thighs before kissing every scar and every blemish that adorned his legs. She felt him tense, holding his breath as her fingers first stroked the skin that ended beneath his knee then pressed the gentlest of kisses there. It made her sad and angry that this had happened to him, but if he was afraid that she would be offended or repelled by the sight then he was wrong; nothing could possibly diminish the depth of her feelings for him.

She let her fingers slide back up through the fine, fair hairs until she reached the dark blond curls between his thighs. Her tongue traced his length, from the base to the taut silk of the head, capturing the taste of him as she gathered the bead of moisture that glistened there. She heard his sharp intake of breath and then her name as a low moan. She looked up and he beckoned her to him, but when she made to straddle his hips again he shook his head. "Come here."

He motioned for her to come towards him, and she did, hesitantly, until she hovered above his mouth. Holding the bars of the metal headboard for support, she remained apprehensively suspended above him until she yielded under the pressure of his hands on her hips and lowered herself to his mouth. She wasn't sure if it had always felt like this, whether it was the angle or whether it was the dominance she felt as she sat astride him, but she cried out from the intensity of the first stroke. As he continued to work her with his tongue, she felt the delicious tension begin to build.

Her thighs were soon shaking and she clung to the iron bars as if her life depended on it. She managed to get her words out just coherently enough to let him know she needed him inside her and he released his hold on her thighs so that she could position herself. He groaned as he slipped against her wetness, and then again as she lowered herself on to him. Her hands behind her, she gripped his muscular thighs for support as she rocked her hips forward. She heard him moan her name again as she began to find her rhythm. Her name, not Delly's. _Mine_ she thought, _you are mine_ as she rode him harder. She heard him moan yes as if in answer to her thoughts. And when her climax began to rock through her body, his strong hands upon her hips held her fast as he thrust upward until he came.

Her body soft with exhaustion, she laid her head on his chest. Their bodies were slick with sweat as they lay panting together. He lifted her head and kissed her. "Never, ever think I would want anyone else," he said, but with a wicked grin he added, "but I might ask Delly to drop by and talk to me everyday. I think I like it when you're jealous."

* * *

Phew! Nearly finished only one more chapter to go. Although I forgot that I had intended to rewrite the last chapter as it's way too cheesy even for me, so it might be a while coming.

Thank you to anyone who has left a review, and I apologise if I haven't responded. I've been concentrating on finishing my other story and I kind of lost track of which reviews I had responded to and which I hadn't for both stories. So sorry, but thank you very much for your reviews its always (well nearly always) great to hear what people think.

Thanks as always to Katnissinme, who is a complete star, for betaing this.


	10. Chapter 10

**America, March 1947**

Peeta wasn't sure why he had allowed himself to think this year would be different. He had just hoped it would be. But then he hadn't told Katniss it was his birthday this weekend, so he guessed he only had himself to blame really.

The rest of his family had acted as they always did, with avoidance. It had always been that way, easier for everyone if they could pretend it wasn't happening. The blind hope that if no one mentioned it they could avoid one of mother's meltdowns and the living hell that accompanied them. Not that it ever worked like that, well maybe a little in the later years, but no matter how much everyone tried to let the day pass with as little fuss as possible, somehow the ugly face of bitter regret still reared its head.

Perhaps stupidly he had hoped that his father would have mentioned it to Katniss and that he would sit down to breakfast to find a homemade card from Hope and a birthday kiss from Katniss – those would have meant more than any surprise present.

But instead Katniss had managed to sleep through his alarm and his rising, and both she and Hope had still been asleep when he left for work.

He had been kept more than busy all day finishing a wedding cake order, and although he usually enjoyed losing himself in the intense concentration required to create the intricate iced finish, he could not find the same level of satisfaction today. Even when his father complimented him on his work and said that he thought it was one of his best cakes yet, it did not improve his mood.

Katniss came down into the kitchen mid-morning to let him know she and Hope were driving out to the O'Dairs to visit Annie and that they might not be back until late. "Do you have to go today?" he'd asked, and Katniss had responded that Annie had sounded worryingly down on the telephone during her last chat and she wanted to check that she was alright. No matter how much he wanted her to stay at home, he knew it was selfish to put his childish sulk before Katniss' concern for her friend.

When she had given him a goodbye kiss, he had tried to deepen it by trapping her against the counter, but she had playfully pushed him away, lightheartedly scolding that he was going to cover her in icing, though they both knew he had none on his apron. She left him in the kitchen with a feeling of discontent that continued to grow as the day progressed.

No one had mentioned his birthday, until at closing time his father had placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Happy birthday, son," handing him a present. Wrapped within one of the bakery shop's own paper bags was a set of new paints. Peeta stared at them, wondering if his father knew him at all. They were a good set and must have been expensive, and Peeta felt guilty that they would not get any use. He didn't paint anymore, his favourite hobby from when he was younger still held too many painful memories. He had not picked up his brushes since he'd used them as a form of therapy; he thought his father knew that.

"Thanks, Dad."

"I hope they're the right kind," his father said. "Your brothers chipped in to get them." And then, with an awkward, apologetic smile, he added, "It's probably a good idea if you don't bring Hope around this week, you know, with your mother being…well, you know."

"Sure, Dad," Peeta sighed as they parted ways. "I'll see you Monday."

Downhearted, he'd climbed the stairs to the apartment, opening the door to find it empty and silent. The silence seemed to ring out, deafening, and he wondered how he could have lived like this for so long. It didn't feel like home without the smells of dinner cooking on the stove or Hope's usual animated welcome.

Thinking of his daughter's antics reminded him of her recent Sunday visits with his dad. He knew his father would miss this Sunday's visit from his granddaughter. He doted on Hope, enchanted by his first grandchild. She would be lucky to make it to the age of six with all her own teeth as he was forever sneaking her sweet treats. And despite her snide comments about his marriage and the circumstances that had led up to Hope's birth, he knew his mother was very fond of, and possibly even growing to love, Hope. After all, she was the little girl his mother had always longed for. He knew she still thought him a fool to lose out on Delly, but he had never loved her the way he did Katniss. The last time he saw Delly she was wearing another man's ring on her finger and he had been truly happy for her.

Besides, he only had room for one blond in his life now, and she was more than a handful. It never ceased to amaze him that he could love her more each day. He could never tire of the way Hope greeted him each day, so excited to see him when he walked through the door after work. Katniss laughed that she should have known her daughter would be a daddy's girl.

Katniss seemed to be more settled in America than he had ever dreamed possible. She had made friends with a couple of other mothers with similarly aged children, and since she had learned to drive she would head over to the O'Dairs to see Annie regularly. Little Finn looked more like his dad every time they saw him. Katniss knew how guilty Peeta felt that Finn never had the chance to see his child while he had almost walked away from his own daughter forever. Katniss had told him she understood now that he had been scared and full of doubt when he had spoken to Abernathy – they had both been young and frightened of what being a parent had meant. They had both said things that day in the wood that they regretted. She blamed herself for driving him away, but he still knew that he should have come looking for her. If Annie had not tricked them into meeting, his life would still be empty and he would have lived it wishing he had never let Katniss walk away.

Life wasn't perfect, they still had bad days and nights. While the nightmares were nowhere near as frequent as they had been, they still happened. The same images, the same faces still haunted him, but Katniss was always there beside him to reassure him it was not real and hold him until he stopped shaking. It was another thing for him to feel guilty about, that he put her through the horrors of his nightmares. She just told him not to be so silly. It's what we do, she would say, we're here to protect each other from our nightmares.

Katniss would still call out for Prim in her sleep, and when she woke he would hold her until her sobs died out. Her dreams only came once or twice a month now, but that did not stop her from thinking of Primrose during the day, and he had caught her more than once slumped against the bedroom wall holding Primrose's photo, her knees hugged to her, rocking as she silently wept.

But those were the rough times that dotted in between what had been some of the happiest months of his life.

He kicked off his shoes at the door and, leaving the paints on the kitchen counter, he headed straight to the bathroom, eager to wash the day off.

He sat on the edge of the bath to unstrap his prosthetic before swinging his legs round to stand up under the running water, holding onto the hand rail that he'd fitted to the tiled wall when he'd first moved in. He let the warm water run over him, letting the disappointment of the day rinse away. And he told himself to stop being so self-pitying and grow up, he wasn't a kid anymore – what exactly had he been expecting, balloons and a clown? He should be grateful, he finally had everything he'd ever wanted. He shouldn't let one stupid day of the year ruin that.

He toweled off and applied lotion to his stump before fitting his prosthetic again. Wrapping the towel around his waist he headed to the bedroom to dress, but he stopped short as he opened the door. Lying on the bed, fast asleep, was Katniss. Lying on top of the covers she was partly covered by the blanket that usually sat at the bottom of the bed. Her hair was loose, mussed out over the pillow and about her bare shoulders. He could see she was wearing just a slip, a new one by the looks of it, in the palest shade of blue, the drape of fluid silk accentuating her curves. One thin strap had slipped from her shoulder to rest on her upper arm, exposing the expanse of skin of her shoulder and neck.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked so peaceful lying there that he wasn't sure if he should wake her. But he guessed from the way she was dressed that she had been waiting for him. He gently brushed back a strand of hair from her face and quietly called her from her sleep. "Katniss."

"Hmm," she sleepily moaned, "Peeta?" She started to open her eyes just a bit, before suddenly her eyes flew fully open and she sat straight up. "Peeta!" she exclaimed, and then with an infuriated groan, "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

He smiled and nodded. "I can't believe I feel asleep," she said, clearly annoyed with herself.

"Hey, it's alright, you were tired." Hope had woken them several times last night. In the last month she had developed a habit of waking up and creeping into bed with them, meaning one of them (usually Katniss) had to get up and put Hope back in her own bed.

"I just really wanted to surprise you," Katniss said disappointedly.

"You did, believe me," he reassured her. "I thought you went to see Annie. I wasn't expecting you back until later."

"What, and miss your birthday?" she said with a sly smile.

"How did you know?" he said surprised and then with a shrug he lied.** "**It's no big deal anyway."

"Luke wasn't surprised you hadn't told me."

"Luke?" They'd had dinner with Luke and his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago. Since dating Maria, Luke had gone through a bit of a transformation, getting himself a new job at the local newspaper in a nearby town, knuckling down, finally having found something he really enjoyed doing.

"He told me about your birthdays growing up and," she paused, looking awkward, "he told me, well, more like warned me about your mother. Why didn't you tell me, Peeta?"

What could he tell her? That over the years he had learnt the easiest way to survive his birthday was to pretend it wasn't happening? That as a child he had come to believe that he didn't deserve a celebration like the other children, because he had done a 'bad thing'? Or that the last time he was truly excited to celebrate his birthday the day had started with disappointment and ended with Katniss sleeping with Gale, setting in motion the series of events that nearly tore them apart forever?

Instead he just shrugged his shoulders. "I guess over the years I got used to not making a big fuss about it. I was just looking forward to spending some time with you and Hope today. I suppose I have Luke to thank for that, at least."

"Luke? You think I didn't know it was your birthday before then? Peeta, we've signed enough legal documents to last a lifetime, do you not think I noticed your date of birth once or twice?"

He knew their date of birth had been listed on several of the documents needed for her immigration and of course their wedding certificate, but memorizing her birthdate hadn't exactly been his top priority at the time. Now he felt a little guilty that he hadn't made a point of remembering it.

"I guess one of us wasn't taking notice," she laughed. "I suppose I'm going to have to give some not so discreet hints about my birthday when the time comes around." She smirked at him knowingly before continuing.

"I didn't go to the O'Dair's today. I met Annie halfway and she's taken Hope back with her to stay the night. I thought we could drive over on Monday, stop and have a nice lunch somewhere, and then bring Hope back."

"Monday? But I have to…"

"It's all arranged, Peeta. Your father said he could cope without you for one day. I hope you don't mind that Hope is missing your birthday, I just thought it would be nice to spend some time together, just the two of us." And she gave him that same sly grin.

He grinned back. "That's fine, we can celebrate it all together on Monday."

He swept her hair back and with one finger traced down her neck and then across her shoulder to drag down the one strap that still remained on her shoulder.

He teasingly ran his fingertips over her skin, just above where her slip remained balanced – he needed only to hook one finger in the front to have it fall away.

"Wait!" she urged, "I want to give you my present first." She reached to open the bedside drawer and retrieve his gift.

First she handed him a folded piece of paper. "Hope made you a card." She had drawn three figures, clear even from her crude rendering that they were him, Katniss and Hope herself. He felt his eyes tear up and a lump form in his throat that he swallowed down as he smiled. "And this is from me."

Katniss handed him a long thin package. She watched him anxiously as he ripped open the wrapping. Inside was a set of new brushes, in pristine state, the tips of their bristles still twisted into virgin peaks. He felt his heart sink. He could handle that his father no longer knew the man he had become, but he had thought that Katniss understood him, that she knew him better than anyone.

"I just thought," she started nervously, "that is… I know you don't paint anymore, but I was hoping that now that you have some happier memories you would want to start again. Your father said how much you used to love it, and that you had a real talent. I thought that perhaps," she shifted self-consciously and he saw her cheeks redden, "well…that you might like to paint me."

His eyes widened as he pictured her stretched out across the bed, her tanned skin and dark hair in fine contrast to the pale sheets beneath her, and he wondered if he would be able to capture the perfect tint of her skin the way he saw it.

"They're perfect," he said, laying the brushes and wrapping down again. "I love them, almost as much as my other present."

She gave a slight shake of her head, a tiny furrow of confusion between her brows. "But I didn't get you anything else."

"Really? 'Cause I was under the impression that this," he indicated the silk slip that clung to her, "was for my benefit."

The corners of her mouth turned up although her cheeks grew a darker shade of red. He ran his fingers over her breasts, still sheathed in silk, his fingers lingering on the hard peak of her nipple and she gasped as he tugged lightly. He wound his other hand into her hair at the nape of her neck to kiss her roughly. He drew back, leaving her breathless. "But as much as I like it," he said, tugging down the slip to expose the skin he had caressed though the silken material, "if I'm going to paint you I'll need to study you in as much detail as possible."

She bit her lip, failing to contain her grin as she fell back onto the pillows.

He was still amazed by the turn of events, incredulous that today promised to be the best birthday of his life, when with a flood of warm emotion he realized that it was only the first of many they would plan and share together and as a family.

His eyes flicked to the bundle of brushes again, imagining the positions in which he would like to paint her. He reached for the biggest of the brushes, with a fat bundle of fine hairs. Katniss frowned at him questioningly, but he just quirked his eyebrow and grinned back.

Smiling against her skin, he trailed kisses down her neck until his mouth found the soft smooth curves of her breasts as he thought of all the ways he could use those soft bristles on her skin...

THE END

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Massive thank you to Katnissinme, without whom this would just never have taken shape. I'm feeling quite smug now as I've actually managed to finish a story - yay! I'm still a little shocked that there was anyone out there who wanted to read it - so a huge thank you to everyone who has read/followed this story I hope you enjoyed it. And thanks to those who left reviews they are always appreciated and gladly received!

Hopefully I'll get the last chapter of Sealskin up today as well - and then I'm done and can go back to normal boring old life!


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